Echo
by iceonthewing
Summary: The echoes of your lies are your most hidden desires.  Featuring Psychic!Rachel and In-Denial!Quinn. Loosely based on the movie "What Women Want". Faberry.
1. Chapter 1

**Warnings: Faberry. That's Rachel Berry/Quinn Fabray. That's girl/girl. Femslash. Don't like, click on the "Back" button.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

It's not a secret to anyone in McKinely High that Rachel Berry is a penny-size, strong opinionated, self-absorbed diva, with a full stack of confidence, who takes great pride in her, how she likes to say, "many virtues".

Her voice is her most valued possession, followed closely by the Wicked poster signed by Idina Menzel that is hung on the pastel yellow wall of her room, next to the trophy shelf she started when she was eight months old.

Everyone with ears is very aware of the firsts on her list of priorities, for she takes any given moment to make it public. What they don't know is how much Rachel really cares about her physical appearance and how high on the list this trait is.

She is not so naïve to think that she has a fashionable style with her daily clothes, because, as Santana so graciously reminds her often, she dresses like "a crossover between an old granny and a stripper with an argyle fetish".

But the unbeatable brunette doesn't care at all, partly because she likes to think those clothes transpire seriousness and that's the idea she wants to give, but mostly because she knows under those endless layers of plaid and wool, there's an extremely fit and attractive body.

Rachel Berry prides herself on her long and smooth legs, her slim waist and firm breasts. She secretly has the guilty pleasure of standing in front of the mirror and admiring her figure. And that's what gives her the strength to get up every morning an hour before its needed to work out on her elliptical.

Of course, the first day of school after summer break is not going to be an exception.

The pint-size diva wakes up for a start with her "wake up/work out" playlist blasting from her i-pod. She's awfully perky in the morning- anyone who has suffered of her overexcited self would tell you that much- and she jumps from her bed, not wasting a heartbeat to change into her shorts and sports bra.

Her elliptical, the STA-r57 is one black and silver stylish machine, that looks a bit like a space ship and her dads bought it online from a specialized store on the other side of the country. They weren't convinced at first. Mr. and Mr. Berry stated how unnecessary it was to have that specific elliptical seeing as it would have to be sent and it'd increase the final cost. Rachel moaned and whined and even prepared a Power Point presentation to explain the advantages of purchasing the STA-r57 over other "less professional exercise machines". Needles to say, she got her elliptical.

Singing softly to the tune coming from her i-pod, she plugs in the machine and almost unconsciously turns it on, selecting her favorite program.

She starts slow, savouring the burning in the muscles of her thighs and arms. Ten minutes later, her pace increases and she starts panting, the first beads of sweat making her skin glisten.

Her mind drifts off to her somewhat scary approaching future. A new year of high school is about to begin and so many things are going to change. She's a junior now, more responsibilities and crucial decisions are coming her way, weighing tons on her shoulders and determining her future. Besides, Glee club got another year, meaning they'd have to work harder than ever if they wanted to make it to Regionals this time.

On top of that, facing Finn after their break-up just a few days ago is going to be awkward, even more because she's not sure if she did the right thing. Finn is a good guy. He has the intellect of a pebble and he's capable of boring her to tears, but Rachel can't help but think she rushed on her decision.

On the other hand, she's excited because for once, she's going to start a school year with friends.

The brunette has never been eager to meet anyone after the summer break, mostly because she has never had anyone to miss during vacation. Not like she's had time to miss them all that much when they have been having parties at Puck's and sleepovers at Kurt's once a week. And really, if she's being realistic, she knows they may have not missed her either.

Granted their friendship got better after Sectionals and have been improving since, but they still think she's insufferable most of the time and talks too much and still groan when she suggests an idea, but those groans are now followed by a playfull eye-roll, a half smirk, or a friendly nudge.

They all care for her in their own special way. Like Puck, trying to get into her pants, Santana with her less mean and more teasing insults, Brittany being... well Brittany or Kurt on his quest to change her wardrobe "for the honour of all the style defenders who fought arduous wars against bad taste and lost their minds on the argyle battle fields."

The only person she hasn't seem able to win over yet, is Quinn.

Rachel reaches for the towel hanging on the small hook attached to the elliptical and scrubs her face forcefully.

It's frustrating, really. She doesn't understand why the blonde who was once so focused on making her life a living hell is now so distant. Yes, she's still kind of a bitch to her- old habits die hard- but it lacks the intensity it used to have; that fire in Quinn's eyes, that sting in her voice.

Rachel doesn't miss it. At all. If anything she likes this Quinn better, even being bitchy and distant, she's way more human than her old-pre-pregnancy self. But the brunette can't help but wonder why is the blonde behaving so evasively and unfriendly with her, when it's so clear to everyone that her hatred for the short diva has diminished or, dare she think it, disappeared.

Rachel gives the final sprint and promises to herself she'll break Quinn Fabray's walls by the end of this year.

The control panel beeps signaling the end of the exercising time and the panting and sweating girl jumps off of the machine, grabbing her water bottle from her night stand and drinking carelessly, too high on sport endorphins to care about the trickles of water running down her chin. She wipes them with her hand, right before bending over to unplug the machine.

There are moments in life when you are so caught up into yourself that you don't assimilate your surroundings enough to detect a failure. Any other day, you would stop, analyze the situation, say: "oh, how stupid of me", and proceed to rectify. Any other day, Rachel Berry, the always over-analyzing girl, would have excruciatingly observed, dissected and organized her plan of action. Today, she has about a nano-second between grabbing the plug and feeling the powerful current of electricity viciously biting her hand and running up her arm and body, to think: "oh, how stupid of me".

She yelps and it sounds way less than it really is; even thought it lasts just a second, it hurts like anything else she has ever felt. She doesn't know how but, when the sensation of thousands of white hot needles prickling her skin from the inside turns to a soft tingling, she finds herself lying flat on her bed.

Her head feels light, like she just inhaled carbon monoxide. Her breathing is uneven, just like her heartbeat and her mouth tastes strongly like iron. She figures she has bitten her tongue accidentally.

She's still trying to process what happened, how can she be so stupid to mix water and electricity, when there's a knock on the door.

"Honey?" Comes the voice of her Daddy. "Can I come in?"

Rachel scrambles to a seated position and clears her throat before answering.

"Yes, Daddy, come in."

Leroy opens the door, smile white and kind and leans against the door frame.

"Ready for your first day as a junior?"

"Yeah, I'm-" The brunette croaks out. She swallows a blood tasting lump and tries again. "I'm as ready as ever."

"Good." He says oblivious to Rachel's internal freak out. "I actually came to ask you if you want waffles for breakfast."

"Daddy." She starts sternly, forgetting for a moment the little electrifying happening and adopting her best scolding tone. "I am _still_ a vegan. Stop trying to convert me and Dad to your murderous eating habits. Besides, do you have any idea what those saturated fats do to your arteries? Haven't you read the magazine I lent you? As you should know, Woman's Health is a very respected source of health information and tips which, even if you are a man, can be of great help for-"

"Okay, sweetheart. Still vegan. No waffles. Got it. I'll just peel you a banana, that good?" He says sardonically.

"That would be great Daddy, thanks."

Leroy snorts good-naturedly and closes the door, shaking his head, amused.

_'I swear I have to find out how to remove the subscription to that health magazine before it tears apart this family.'_

Rachel gasps outraged at this and struts into her bathroom like only she can.

It's only when she closes the door behind her and watches herself in the mirror that she realizes how lucky she is to still be alive.

She slips out of her clothes and into the shower, wondering what are the odds for this to happen and reaches for her shampoo, catching for the first time a glimpse of something unfamiliar on her hand.

The ugly red burnt mark crosses her palm from between her middle and ring finger to her wrist where it fades to a light pink and, like it always happens with this kind of wound, it starts hurting right when she acknowledges it.

Twenty minutes later, she's showered and dressed, her hand is neatly bandaged, and she's preparing herself to lie to her parents for the first time in her life.

"Good morning, Dad." She says cheerily, sitting on the kitchen stool and digging into her plate of cut up fruit and glass of soy milk. "Where's Daddy?"

"Morning, cupcake. He left for work already. He asked me to tell you to have a good first day." Hiram answers with his back to her, fumbling with the toaster. _'Stupid machine with its stupid buttons. Easy technology, my ass.'_

"Dad!" Rachel exclaims bewildered, not used to hearing either of her dads curse.

"What?" Hiram asks confused.

His daughter just shakes her head disapprovingly and returns to her breakfast.

"Oh honey, what happened?"

Suddenly her right hand, that was aiming for her mouth with a grape, is captive between both of Hiram's hands and he's inspecting the bandage with wide, worried eyes.

"Oh, that. It's nothing, Dad, I just got burned with the BaByliss, while curling my hair before."

Thank who ever is up there for her great acting skills.

"Oh well. Good, I was worried for a second there. I should have figured it was just your clumsy self."

"I am _not_ clumsy!" Rachel gasps, earning a good laugh from her Dad.

"Oh, but you are. Did you forget that incident involving that pool stick on our last trip to New York? I'm sure your Daddy hasn't forgotten." He says, stealing a piece of apple from her daughter's plate, his eyes full of mirth.

"That's different! You know I lack the hand-eye coordination that game requires. That's not enough reason for you to declare my clumsiness."

"Whatever you say, sweetheart. Go to school, you're gonna be late." He kisses her on the head and she smiles reluctantly before jumping off of the stool and grabbing her stuff.

"I'll see you tonight at dinner, Dad. We have the first Glee Club meeting this afternoon, as I hope you remember, and it's probably going to take a while if we want to devise this year's plan of action to conquer Sectionals _and_Regionals." The brunette announces from the door.

"Mhm." Is Hiram's only answer, having returned to the toaster, watching it with his hands on his hips. _'You won't give me my damn toasted bread, I'll send you back to hell where you belong.'_

"Oh my God, Dad!"

"What?" He shrieks, turning around quickly with his expression so innocent Rachel would have believed him if she wouldn't have just heard him.

"You really should think about watching your mouth, Dad. I'm still young and easily influenced and I could get into that really bad habit- which I wasn't aware you had- and I really do not want that, thank you very much."

"But..." He mumbles watching his daughter huff out of the room and the house, rooted in his place, brow furrowed. "I didn't say anything."

**···**

Rachel has to admit that she is having one of the strangest days of her life.

First, she was electrocuted and surprisingly enough, survived to tell the story with only a burn mark as a reminder. Then, her Dad starts cursing out of nowhere and acting all innocent about it, like it's the most normal thing ever.

But the weirdness doesn't stop here.

This morning while she was getting her books out of her locker, this girl she goes to English class with- Mindy or Mandy, she thinks her name is- walked behind her mumbling the strangest thing:

_'So, if it's while I was drunk it doesn't count, right? I'm still a virgin, right?'_

Rachel gasped, earning a look from the girl, like she just wasn't questioning her virginity in the middle of the hall.

Later, during her daily escape from Jacob Ben Israel, where he was trying to convince her to come to his house after school to read his last article, she heard him formulate the most sick, perverted fantasy, involving her and the boy wearing her panties.

It took all her might not to puke her guts out right then and there and she ran to the nearest girls bathroom and waited for class to start to get out.

But the pinnacle of the Twilight Zone-esque day so far, came when, heading to her Spanish class, she walked past a group of jocks and heard one of them say, loud and cle_ar 'I'd so tap that'_. Rachel spun around, stunned, cheeks tinged red and eyes wide, but she couldn't spot which one said it. After a rude "What's your problem, Stubbles?" from Karofsky, she ran to class.

She is now watching Mr. Shue conjugate the verb "Pensar" on the blackboard. Today, the class seems to be more chatty than ever, she really can't decipher what those murmurs say or who they come from, but they're seriously giving her the starters of a headache.

She reaches for a pencil in her backpack with her injured hand and winces quietly when the zipper scratches the bandage.

_'Oh my God, is she hurt?'_

Rachel's brown orbs scan wildly the classroom, looking frantically for the owner of the clear and feminine voice, but she only finds bored students and an over-excited teacher who's trying to point the difference between "Yo pienso" and "Yo creo". Unbelievably, it seems like no one is phased by whoever is talking loudly in the middle of a class.

_'What happened to her? Did she punch someone? Ha! Yeah, Rach punching someone, I don't think so.'_

At this point, the brunette is staring rudely back and forth, at every girl in the class, but no one of them seems to be talking. She closes her eyes, trying to pin point the direction of the voice, but every time she thinks she has it, she loses it again.

_'Oh my God, what if she's cutting herself? OhmyGod, ohmygod! Hold on. Hold on, that doesn't make sense, the bandage is not on the wrist and hello! it's Rachel Berry, she wouldn't do something so stupid, she's smarter than that.'_

The pencil on her hand snaps in her vice grip. She jogs her memory trying to recall that soft voice. Who is it? And why isn't anyone disturbed by her? Why isn't Mr. Shue saying something? Someone's shamelessly interrupting his lecture!

_'Whatever. Why am I even worrying about Berry? I don't care about her. I don't.'_

And that's when Rachel recognizes it. The indifference, the disinterested bitchiness.

She flexes her hand, letting the pieces of the broken pencil fall and turns around on her seat slowly, to the person sitting right behind her.

"What are you looking at, Berry?" Quinn snaps, but it has no sting to it.

"Were you... uhm, were you saying something?" The brunette asks, her voice quivering.

The blonde stares at her, expression bored and unamused. "No, I wasn't. Is that all you wanted?"

Rachel nods, confused, and turns her attention back to the front. She tilts her head, disconcerted, and wonders if she has gone mad. It would explain a couple of things that happened today.

_'What the hell was that? Maybe... maybe she's not okay. Not that I care or anything, but... I could ask Brittany to ask her if there's something wrong or something... just in case or whatever. Yeah, it would be like, just in case.'_

This time, she spins around so quickly she nearly falls off of the chair. And there is Quinn, looking at her like she just grew another head.

"What _is_ your problem?" The blonde whispers harshly.

"I-I... I thought I heard... you just... uhm, nevermind." Rachel stammers blushing beet red. She almost squeaks in delight when, immediately after, the bell rings signaling the end of the class and school day.

She gathers her things in a rush and runs out of the room and to the nearest bathroom.

**···**

For the first time in all Glee Club history- not involving eggs- Rachel is late.

She walks in dragging her feet, brow furrowed and rubbing her temples, suffering a full blown headache now.

"Rachel, I almost thought you weren't coming." Mr. Schue jokes good-naturedly. Everybody knows she wouldn't miss it unless she was in a coma- which she is wondering if she is and if today is all a twisted dream of her over-active mind.

"Sorry, Mr. Schue. I was refreshing in the bathroom. It won't happen again."

She sits next to Mercedes, who glances worriedly at her and rubs her shoulder softly.

"It's okay, Rachel. We were just talking about our summer, you didn't miss anything." He answers cheerily, then claps his hands. "But we should start with the planning, right guys?"

There's a general sound of agreement and the brunette reaches for her purse hoping to find some Advil.

"You okay, Rach?" Mercedes whispers while Mr. Schue is busy suggesting his ideas for their next approach to Sectionals.

"Yeah, just a headache." She answers curtly. The other girl seems surprised by the absence of useless and endless rant.

_'Man, she looks sick. I'd tap that still.'_ She hears Puck say.

"What about the hand?" Mercedes insists, genuinely worried.

_'Hm, the midget hasn't jumped to suggest an awesome idea yet. This day is going better and better.'_ Santana mumbles. She glances at her and sees her playing with Brittany's fingers, focused on some point on the wall behind Mr. Schue.

"The hand?" She asks, closing her eyes shut, feeling seriously dizzy.

_'I should buy the shoes. Hm, but if I do I'll have to buy the matching scarf. Oh well, might as well do some sacrifices for the sake of style.'_

"Yeah, the bandage Rachel. Are you sure you're okay?"

_'Oh God, she looks like she's going to faint. Shit! I should have known! I should have asked something! Wait, what?Shut it, Fabray, you don't _have_ to do anything. You don't.'_

"Oh yeah. It's just- I got burnt curling my hair."

_'What did I ever do? I think I was a good boyfriend. I pretended to listen to her babbling, never stared to her boobs while she was watching... well, maybe that one time, but she didn't even notice!'_

"Oh, that happened to me once. I was straightening m-"

"WOULD YOU ALL JUST SHUT UP?"

The small diva is standing in front of the entire Glee Club, nostrils flaring, breathing uneven and eye twitching. Everybody, including Mr. Schue, the band members and Brad, are stunned by her outburst, much different than any other she ever had.

"You- you've been all day... confusing me and- and talking and- and then being all... innocent, but I can't take it anymore. I'm... I'm out of here."

She grabs her things and storms to the door.

_'Damn, that's kinda hot.'_

Rachel stops dead in her tracks. She heard it again, loud and clear, and this time, she doesn't doubt who the voice owner is.

Walking back her own steps, she stares intently at Quinn, daring her with her eyes to deny it again.

"What. Did. You. Just. Say?"

Quinn looks taken aback by her piercing stare, but recovers quickly.

"Geez Berry, I didn't say anything. What? Now you're hearing voices?"

_'Fuck. Me. If she keeps looking at me like that, I might not take responsibility of my actions.'_

This time, Rachel was closely inspecting the blonde's face and there's no possibility for her to miss how Quinn's lips didn't move to speak the last line and, unless the ex-cheerio is suddenly a ventriloquist, it can only mean one thing.

"Yeah. Yes, I think I am."

* * *

**I wish I was psychic so I could read your mind.**

**Leave me a review instead, yes?**


	2. Chapter 2

**Sorry for the delay. This shouldn't have taken so long, but I had a really hectic week.**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing you can recognize.**

_"Geez Berry, I didn't say anything. What? Now you're hearing voices?"_

'Fuck. Me. If she keeps looking at me like that, I might not take responsibility of my actions.'

_This time, Rachel was closely inspecting the blonde's face and there's no possibility for her to miss how Quinn's lips didn't move to speak the last line and, unless the ex-cheerio is suddenly a ventriloquist, it can only mean one thing._

_"Yeah. Yes, I think I am."_

**...**

"Rach? Is that you?" Hiram asks upon hearing the front door slam shut. He walks out of the kitchen, where he was starting dinner, with his rainbow apron and a ladle, and meets her in the hall.

"Dad. Hi," the girl answers distractedly.

"You're early, aren't you?" He checks his watch, confused. "Did you forget you had Glee Club?"

"Yes- I mean, I'm early but no I didn't forget about Glee, I just left because I wasn't feeling well, so I decided it'd be best to come home and rest."

"Oh honey, what's wrong?"

"Just a headache, Dad, nothing to worry about." Rachel smiles through her lie reassuringly.

"You sure?" The short man eyes his daughter suspiciously.

"Of course." Rachel exhibits her best hundred watt smile, desperate to end the conversation and go to her room to think.

"Hm, okay. Still, go take some Advil and lie down a bit while I make dinner. I can send your Daddy to your room when dinner is ready in case you want to sleep?"

The brunette sighs and nods gratefully, even though she's pretty sure sleep is not going to happen any time soon. She starts heading to the stairs when an idea strikes her.

"Dad?"

"Yes, Rach?"

She waits for him to face her before making her question.

"Do you know what happened to the Annie video tape I had when I was little?"

He lifts a finger to his chin, seemingly thinking hard. _'Yeah, Leroy burned it and then buried it in the backyard one day while you were in ballet class, but you can never know that.'_

"Hm, the one you used to love so much? I have no idea, really. I remember how you used to watch it every night." He pauses for a second. _'Every goddamn night for five years.' _"Strange things that happen." He shrugs. "But you have it on DVD now, don't you?"

"Yes. I was just wondering." She forces a smile and nods towards the stairs with her head. "I'll be in my room."

"You go rest, cupcake."

**···**

"I knew it," Rachel spits as soon as she closes the door behind her. She kneels in front of her movie collection shelf, picks up the empty box of her Annie video tape and opens it with a huff. After a few minutes of silently ranting away about the newfound betrayal on her Daddy's part, she puts the box back on the shelf and sits on her heels.

"So, I'm really a psychic." The crazy statement falls from her mouth and echoes in the silent room making her cringe.

It's reason enough to put her in a psychiatric hospital.

Freak, self-obsessed diva, gleek, among other less accurate nick-names, and now: mental. Great. Just great.

But it has to be true. She knows it's the only explanation to all the bizarre events of the day. Well, not all, because Quinn thinking that she's hot is still inexplicable. But she'll focus on that later.

The matter at hand now is to find out what is going on with her. How did this happen, why, what exactly is "this" and what is she going to do about it? Since this morning she has been feeling quite lost and if there's something Rachel Berry does not tolerate, it is the lack of proper order and structure in her life.

So, if this new "skill", is going to be a part of her life- at least until she discovers how to get rid of it- might as well learn as much as she can about it.

She takes a few deep breaths and nods once to herself, standing up with renewed confidence. With pen and paper at hand, she sits at her desk, feeling finally at charge of the situation and writes in her neat and straight-forward calligraphy:

_"Meticulous study of possible mind reading ability."_

If she's doing this, she's doing it right, and that requires a diagram, a list of points to consider, hypothesis, possible causes, consequences, range of the ability...

"Hm, maybe I'll need a Power Point."

**···**

After three hours of intensive research on the Internet without a break- stopping only when her Daddy came to her room to announce that dinner was ready and she told him she was still feeling rather sick and that she would eat something later- she has found several serious looking pages with an immense amount of information about electrical charges in the human body, nervous receptors, sound waves and a whole lot of other terms she's not very sure of.

The reason why she leaned towards these topics was a very annoying itch in her right hand and the hunch that her little encounter with Mr. Watt this morning has everything to do with her new ability.

She has also found some other eccentric pages where people relate their experiences in this field and make up crazy theories that doesn't convince her at all. Because, really, microchips inserted by the government through the water to control our consumerism that sometimes fail and provoke the person to hear radio transmissions in their heads? No. Just, no.

So far, the mind reader diva is still pretty helpless.

She sighs and leans back on the chair, letting out a long breath of exhaustion. What is distressing her the most, is the fact that there's a whole new power in her hands, and she doesn't know how to use it. What can she do with it? Can it hurt someone? Is it even moral?

The gold star clock on her night stand says it's almost 10 pm and she figures she should eat something and inform her dads that she's still alive.

After a quick stop in the kitchen, she follows the sound of the TV that's flowing from the living room. Rachel stops in the door way for a second, preparing herself mentally to be in the same room with two other thinking heads, squares her shoulders and steps in the room.

"Dad, Daddy."

"Baby girl, how are you feeling?" Leroy asks with his soft, concerned voice. Hiram is cuddled next to him, intently watching his favorite quiz show.

"Better. I just needed to rest my brain and... regain some control of the situation." The last part of her statement is whispered and the tall man looks at her strangely.

"Have you eaten anything?" Her Dad speaks finally, while the host- a man who looks like he bathed his hair in gel and displays a too wide smile- recounts the points of the contestants.

"Yes. I just had a protein milkshake, which, not only lacks of fats and unnecessary carbohydrates, still providing enough nutritive value, but it's also tasty."

Hiram nods approvingly while the other man lets out a good laugh.

_'Bet my Elton John Special Edition Collection, it's Woman's Health's fault.'_

The girl can only roll her eyes and bite her tongue to refrain from making a comeback.

"Good girl," her Dad says with pride in his eyes. "Come on, sit here with us for a bit."

He untangles Leroy's arm from behind his back and makes room between them. As soon as the brunette is seated, the taller man resumes his previous position, enveloping his daughter in a side hug. She sighs contently and melts into her Daddy's warmth and smell of fabric softener.

"Copper!" Hiram cries excitedly, breaking through the little bubble of comfort her Daddy offers.

She turns her head and has to fight hard to stifle a laugh a her Dad's antics.

"And the correct answer is... silver! The most conductive metal is silver! Fantastic Jenny, five points for you!" The host announces cheerily.

"Meh, whatever." Hiram grumbles.

"The next question is for you Mike. For 5 points, what is the capital of Australia?"

Rachel glances at her Dad who's scratching his chin thoughtfully. "Ah, I'm pretty sure it's Sydney."

_'Hm, no. I think it's Canberra,'_ Leroy's voice resounds loud and clear through her mind just before that Mike guy answers.

"Canberra."

"And that's... correct!" Mr. Creepy Smile says.

"What? This game is rigged."

The brunette giggles and her Daddy nudges her discreetly, giving her that look that clearly says: _'You know you are exactly like him'_ except this time, she actually hears his thought.

"It's okay, honey. That was a tricky one." Leroy tries to comforts his husband. The petite girl smiles adoringly at her Daddy's special way of making the other man happy.

"And the last one, for 10 points, what English writer asserted that "All art is quite useless?""

"Who even knows that?" Hiram huffs indignant.

_'Oscar Wilde. The Picture of Dorian Gray,'_ echoes the fleeting thought of her Daddy.

"I-I'm not sure of this one..." the contestant stammers. Leroy grabs the remote and starts channel surfing.

"I know, babe. That show is ridiculous, and the host scares me. I don't even know why we watch it."

"I just love it when I get some question right."

_'I know you do.'_

Rachel, who has been watching the exchange and hearing Leroy's not shared comments, can only hug her Daddy tighter and feel extremely lucky that, even if she doesn't know what's going on in her own head and it scares her more than she wants to admit, she'll always have a wonderful, loving family.

**···**

The next day, the petite brunette is feeling rather rested and fresh. After a satisfying amount of sleep (mostly because of the exhaustion), and a long, nice shower this morning (she completely ignored her elliptical, just in case) she's determined to not let this condition affect her grades and her everyday life.

Last night with her dads went smoothly and she easily handled the intermittent rush of the men's thoughts; Rachel's convinced she'll be able to stand a bunch of teenagers who's main train of thought revolves around sex, self esteem, crushes and video games. Even though, there's still one person's mind who's thoughts make her anxious and give her these funny feelings in her stomach, but Rachel has too much on her plate to focus on that now.

Her internal reflection is cut short when she collides with a Dunkin' Donuts smelling wall on her way to first period.

"Oh my God, I'm so sorry. I wasn't paying at-" She falls quiet upon recognizing the identity of the wall. "Finn."

"Hey, Rach." He waves awkwardly. "Sorry about that, you were walking so fast I couldn't let a word in before you crashed into me."

"It's okay, no one got hurt." Seconds pass by and a palpable tension builds between them. She figures the boy wants to talk about something, that or he stopped her in the middle of the hall only to have a staring contest.

Suddenly she realizes she doesn't have to wait to know what he wants to say. Not letting her ability be an interference doesn't mean she can't use it in her favor. The brunette tilts her head, sharpening her trained ears- like when she was trying to find out who was lip syncing in Glee- even though she realizes it's unnecessary.

_'...her in the eye. Look her in the eye. Look her in the eye. Look her in...'_

Rachel's brown eyes widen comically. Giving him a fake small smile and a nod, she steps aside and resumes her way to class.

"Rachel, wait!"

"What is it Finn?" She sighs tiredly, spinning around on her heels. "If you have something to tell me, then do it quickly, because we both have class and I don't know about you, but I'd like to keep my record of attendance intact."

"Right. Yes." He squares his gigantic shoulders and takes a deep breath. "I think you made a mistake."

"I'm not sure what you're talking about but I can't help but doubt that statement, seeing as I am hardly ever mistaken."

"I- eh, no. Look, you broke up with me and it was a huge, humongous mistake!"

"Oh. Well, what are your arguments to defend that?"

"Ah... 'cause- I mean... we, er..." _'Fuck! What did Kurt say about meaning... means... meant- meant! The "we are meant to be" thingy!'_

"We are meant to be, okay? I know we are. I was there in the choir room yesterday. I can see how you're hurting because of all this." Finn leans to her like he wants to hug her and she takes a half step back. "We've been through all this... shit and then, we finally got together and everything was awesome."

He stops, waiting for her to agree and a thick silence falls between them.

_'Shit, shit, shit. Say something, dude, anything!' _"We are special Rach. I knew it when you were with Jesse and I didn't lose hope. I never stopped trying." _'Score!'_

"I..." The brunette wants to reply and contribute to the discussion but she's bewildered by the boy's thoughts.

"It's okay. I guess you have a lot to think about now. I can wait a little more for you. Just... go to class, I don't want you to be late because of me."

'_Yes, you got her man! Now Puck can't say you're a pussy.'_

"Right, I... have _a lot_ on my mind at the moment." Truer words were never spoken. "I'll see you later, Finn."

Rachel turns to head to class, when she catches a flash of hazel staring in their direction. The moment their eyes meet, the familiar soft echo rings through her mind like an old song she never really forgot.

_'She can't go back with him. She can't. It's the biggest mistake she could ever make.'_

Quinn's voice is sad and honest and the other girl has to avert her eyes for some reason she's not sure of. When she walks past the blonde, who's leaning on her locker, hugging her books to her chest, two things catch up with the small diva: a subtle but alluring breeze of lilacs and a faint,_ 'She deserves better.'_

**···**

The sea of students is currently flooding the cafeteria and Rachel tries to find some familiar face to sit with, shamelessly avoiding Finn's hopeful eyes among the crowd.

"Rachel!" The excited voice stands out from the incomprehensible chatter of mixed thoughts and conversations. "Rach, over here!"

The brunette spots a giddy Brittany waving from a table in the far corner of the cafeteria. Beside the jumping blonde, there's a bored Santana, sipping distractedly out of one of those Cheerios sport bottles.

She makes her way to the pair nervously, holding her lunch bag with her injured hand and fidgeting with her back pack strap with the other.

"Hey, Rach! Sit with us!"

"Hello, Britt. Santana." The shorter girl greets while sitting in front of them.

"Berry."

Brittany seems to be the only one comfortable. The Latina is tapping her fingers on the table impatiently, like there are a million places she would like to be but here and Rachel is at a loss.

"How are you?" The blonde asks with a smile.

"Well, if you are referring to my general state of mind, I'm good, thanks. Although if you meant to ask about my feelings at this very moment, I have to confess I'm slightly confused. It's really considerate on your part to ask, but you'll have to excuse me if I'm a little bit skeptical."

_'What is she talking about?' _Britt wonders confused. "S? Does that mean she's okay?"

"No, that means she has verbal diarrhea as usual." The Latina scoffs with her trade mark eye-roll. She turns to the future Broadway star with a fake smile- that looks more like a sneer- plastered on her face. "You sure about that, Streisand? What about your little outburst yesterday in the choir room?"

Rachel shifts in her seat nervously. "I was having a hard day. Stress. Nothing a good sleep couldn't fix."

Silence falls around the table and the shorter girl feels even smaller under the scrutinizing gaze of Santana's intense brown eyes. After a couple seconds of tension, the blonde leans to her best friend and whispers loud enough for Rachel to hear.

"So, what do we tell-"

"B." The Latina whisper back harshly. "Remember what you promised?"

_'To never get another bird in my locker, 'cause S got in a lot of trouble.'_

"But it's not real, it's stuffed. You gave it to me, it has a heart and a little hat, remember?"

A faint blush floods the tan girl's cheek briefly. "What? No! The _other thing_ you promised just _a minute ago._"

_'Not to mention Q in the conversation with Rachel, 'cause she'll hunt us down and kill us slowly.'_

"Oh, yeah. Sorry." Britt bats her eyelashes and smiles apologetically, deflating her friend's anger instantly, then turns to the forgotten occupant of the table. "It's good you're good, Rach."

'_Yeah, it means we can finally leave to do better things.'_ Santana stands impatiently. "Yep, wonderful. Now we have to go. C'mon, B."

"See you later, Rach!" The ditzy blonde waves goodbye and skips happily to link her pale pinkie with the tan, awaiting one.

Rachel watches their retreating forms, her sandwich untouched in front of her and her hands in her lap. It's obvious to anyone who was watching or eavesdropping their exchange, how surreal the whole situation was.

Rachel Berry being invited to sit with the Head Cheerio and inseparable friend and having a pacific conversation. The popular pair even showed concern for the self-absorbed diva in public. Now, everybody knows they're together in Glee Club and Rachel is aware of the mild level of tolerance they've reached with her. But this was, at least, unexpected.

Even though, what hit the brunette hard enough to leave her rooted in her chair, even when the bell rings signaling the start of the next period, was Brittany's thought.

_'Not to mention Q in the conversation with Rachel, 'cause she'll hunt us down and kill us slowly'_, she recalls.

What was that about? Why is Quinn suddenly meddling in everything? And most importantly, why didn't she bring any Advil today?

**···**

Thursday afternoon finds her dragging her feet through the almost empty halls of McKinley and wondering if it's going to be like this from now on. Every morning, she is determined to act and go on with her life normally in spite of the stream of random ideas that don't belong to her and flood her mind at any given moment.

The power, (or curse, like she's decided to call it) seems to drain her usually endless energy. Her dads are beginning to notice how rapidly the painkillers are disappearing from the cabinet, and she has opted for walking from class to class with headphones and having lunch in the bleachers, where the thoughts of the football players and cheerleaders are faint enough to be an inoffensive murmur.

Luckily enough, Glee Club was suspended yesterday because, this year, Mr. Schuester belongs to the Homecoming Committee. She couldn't even protest and make a fuss about it, seeing the perfect excuse to escape to home earlier and avoid Finn's puppy eyes and contradictory mind, among other confusing thoughts.

Rachel's currently heading to the parking lot when a fuming Quinn storms out of the closest bathroom. The blonde stops dead in her tracks when she sees her and their eyes connect for a brief moment. The ex-Cheerio's expression softens almost imperceptibly.

_'I could just do it myself-'_ She cuts herself off with a head shake and her face morphs into cold stone.

With a blurr of golden hair, Rachel is left alone again.

_'Fuck Q and her sudden worry for the sake of Glee. If it wasn't 'cause I owe her big, for that time Mami almost caught B and I this summer, I'd tell her where she could stick her little job in.'_

As soon as the heated thought is over, a very pissed Santana Lopez and an adorably confused Brittany step out of the bathroom Quinn just left.

_'Quinn's angry 'cause we believed Rach was okay... but she said she was okay! Maybe Q's just afraid of showing that she cares. Like Santana.'_ The blue-eyed girl glances at her companion, who just happens to spot the petite brunette standing awkwardly in the hall.

"Berry!" She barks. _'Awesome, we have half the job done.'_

Santana walks to her like a predator cornering its prey, and the small diva steps back until her back bumps against the lockers.

"Santana, it's nice to see you too."

"Cut the crap, Streisand. We know there's something going on with you and if it affects Glee Club, we're all screwed. So spill."

"I'm afraid I don't know what you're talking about." Rachel says in her most convincing tone, but it's hard with the menacing presence of the Latina. She glances over her shoulders and to a slowly approaching Britt, who looks still deep in thought.

_'I wonder if S and Q are like, lost twins. Like in The Parent Trap.'_

"Don't play with me, Man-hands." The taller brunette hisses, winning back her attention and taking a threatening step forward. _'I so don't have time for this.'_

"S." Brittany sing-songs scolding. Santana rolls her eyes but Rachel doesn't miss how she retreats, giving her the much needed space to breath. "We are really worried Rach. You said you were okay but we think you lied."

"Why would you think I-"

"You go mental in Glee Club for no apparent reason," Santana enumerates, "walk around ignoring everyone, have lunch alone on the bleachers and yesterday you fucking _ran_ home when Glee was dismissed."

"We think you're high on painkillers."

"What?" The other two girls say astonished, at the same time. Brittany just blinks unphased.

"Anyway," the Latina shrugs, "you need to spill the fucking bins out. Like, now." _'Or I'll punch them out of you.'_

"I don't..." Rachel begins to deny it all over again, but she finds that she can't. The girl's exhausted, and frustrated and she could really use a friend or two to talk to. Sure she realizes who she's faced with, Brittany and Santana were not her first option when she considered telling someone. But, being realistic, are they any worse than everyone else? Besides, they've actually tried to find out, which is more than anyone has done. And maybe it's only because Quinn asked them to, but better yet, she might get some info about the blonde through them.

The short brunette ponders all this under the impatient stare of one, arms folded, foot tapping, Santana Lopez. "So?"

"Okay," she breathes. "Okay, I'll tell you, but not here. We need a better location."

"I'm not going to your house, Berry. No offense, but last time Glee Club had a get together there we had a complete documentary of Barbra Streisand's life. With pictures." Santana recalls. _'And I still have nightmares about it.'_

"No, we can't go there either. My dads might hear."

"Your dads don't know?" The two Cheerios are clearly shocked._ 'Wow, it must be serious.'_

"No one knows, Santana." And the look on Rachel's face is so pained, so anguished, that the Latina drops her teasing tone and adopts a more serious one.

"Okay, Berry." She nods. "I know where we can go."

**···**

The Head Cheerio's red Camaro pulls out of the drive way and into a pretty neighbourhood Rachel's not familiar with. She follows closely with her car until they stop at an almost empty parking lot; it looks like Santana has led them to nice and colorful park. The sun is reflecting on the pavement and it gives the playground the appearance of a vintage picture taken with an old Polaroid.

She's inspecting the surroundings and wondering how she is going to approach the topic, when a rhythmical tap on her window turns her attention. A smiling Brittany gestures for her to get out and join them.

"Isn't this place nice?" The blonde squeals excited while they make their way to the playground that's so beautifully bathed in an orange glow. "This park is half way to my house and Santana's. It's where we met when we were toddlers, right S?"

"Yeah, Britt." Santana nods with a kind smile that's only reserved for the blonde. _'It's also where we first kissed.'_

"I love this place." Britt sighs dreamily.

They reach the swings and the blonde quickly hops into one of them, the Latina automatically steps behind her to push her.

"So, is this place good enough for you?"

Rachel glances around, finding only a few mothers with their children, an old couple feeding the ducks and some runners that come and go. Everybody seems to be quite interested in their own business.

"Yes." She sits in the other swing, reaching the ground barely with her toes and swallows hard. "I really don't know where to begin."

"How about the beginning?"

"Okay." The brunette takes a deep breath and begins to relate her story.

**···**

"So, let me get this straight," Santana says standing still behind the blonde and holding the chains of her swing while the other girl leans back against her stomach. "You are telling us that you got electrocuted by your elliptical, survived and now you can listen to other people thoughts."

"Well I guess when you put it so bluntly, it does sound ridiculous."

"Right. And now you're going to tell me you have a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt."

"How did you- Well it's not a lightning bolt, it's more like a root. See," She carefully moves the bandage away from her hand, making Brittany gasp and Santana's eyes bulge.

"Okay. I guess I should start calling you "The Midget That Lived" then."

"What-" Then it all clicks. "Santana! This is not funny. What I'm telling you is of crucial importance, you have to believe me."

The Latina sighs, dropping her arms around the blonde girl's neck. "Okay, I'll concede you that you got electrocuted and survived, which is extremely improbable, but whatever. So what? You're alive, congrats, now could you stop moping and acting weird? Well, weirder."

Rachel groans, turning on the swing to face them. "Guys. I can _read minds_." She says slowly, with her characteristic intensity.

Santana snorts. "Do you really want us to believe you're a psychic or whatever?"

"I am!" She cries. The taller brunette gives her a look that says "yeah, right" and Britt tilts her head at her.

_'Aw. Rach is desilusional.'_

"I am not-" She stops herself on time and suddenly realizes the easiest way to prove it. "I'll prove it. Think about something, anything."

_'Ducks.'_

"Anything but ducks, Britt."

The blonde gasps amazed, clearly convinced by Rachel's theory, but her best friend doesn't seem impressed at all.

"Nice try, Berry."

Rachel jumps off the swing and stands in front of them.

"Go ahead, think about something only Santana Lopez would know if you're so sure that I'm lying." The dare in her voice doesn't go unnoticed by the other girl, who looks down at her with a raised eyebrow.

"This is stupid."

"Then you have nothing to lose."

"Whatever." Santana scoffs. _'Might as well get this shit over with.'_

She rolls her eyes, showing an extremely bored expression._ 'Uh, okay, I don't know... I'm afraid of thunderstorms. I steal my brother's comics 'cause I love Batwoman and... Oh, one time, when I was eight, I kissed Danny Schmitt 'cause he had just kissed B and I thought that way it'd be like-'_

"Okay, okay. Enough. Thunderstorms, Batwoman, Danny Schmitt. It is not my intention to know all your secrets."

Santana jumps back like she has just been burned and Britt yelps, losing balance and falling backwards. Fortunately, Rachel's terrific reflexes kick in in time and she catches the blonde by the arm before she hits the ground.

"Santana, for Barbra's sake, be careful!"

The shocked brunette snaps out of it long enough to hug back the scared and shiny-eyed girl and whisper some comforting and apologetic words in her hear. But as soon as Brittany is smiling again, Santana turns her attention back to the diva with an icy glare.

_'How the fuck? There has to be another explanation. This is irrational. There has to be a way-'_

"There isn't," Rachel cuts off her train of thoughts. "Trust me, I've elaborated multiple different hypothesis, done enough research to write a book and it's the only explanation."

"Right..." Santana nods slowly, processing the news. Suddenly her grip on Brittany tightens and her eyes widen comically._ 'Shit! She knows! Fucking shit! About fucking Danny, and the storms and-'_

"I won't tell," Rachel interrupts again. She raises her not-injured hand and looks at her in the eye, conveying all the reassurance she can muster. "If you don't tell."

The Latina ponders what she's saying for a second, before grabbing the obviously not manly hand in a firm handshake. "Deal."

Rachel smiles pleased and redirects her hand to Brittany. "What about you, will you keep my secret?"

"Only if you keep mine."

"Uh, I don't know yours, Britt." The brunette says confused.

"Yes you do! About the accordion woman and the mustard bottle, remember?"

Rachel looks at Santana for help and the other girl just shrugs, shakes her head and thinks_ 'Hey, don't ask me.'_

"Ah... right. We have a deal then."

"Wait a minute." The taller brunette raises a perfect manicured finger. "If you can hear what we think since Monday, then you know why B and I..."

"Yes, I know about Quinn." Rachel smiles apologetically. "And although I appreciate her concern for the heart and brains of Glee Club, I don't understand why she couldn't ask herself."

Santana ignores the future Broadway star's boasting. "Yeah, me neither."

"So, what do we tell Q?" Brittany asks with a little voice, glancing up at her.

"I don't know, B." She looks at Rachel with a frown. "Are you going to keep sulking, hiding from other life forms and drowning yourself in pills?"

"You don't understand what it is like," the short diva stamps her feet a little and steps away from them, looking around the park with a frustrated expression. Her shiny brown hair swirls around with the soft warm breeze that brings so many good memories from the summer. She wishes she could go back to then and choose to stay in bed that first day of school. "See that woman over there with the baby? I only have to innocently walk past her or sit on the bank next to her and all these ideas about diapers and Desperate Housewives will invade my head without my permission. Imagine that in a building full of overactive teenaged minds; thoughts bombarding my skull from the inside every single second. Sometimes I don't even know which are mine and which are theirs."

Rachel turns to the girls with tired eyes and rubbing her temples. "I can't control it, I can't turn it off. I thought I could manage, that it would go away eventually and all I had to do was give it time. I'm tired and lost and- and scared. What is this? Why me? Am I the only one?"

Britt surprises the brunette with a sudden hug. It's comforting and she clings to the girl gratefully.

"I want to help you, Rach," the blonde says pouting.

_'How do I even get myself into this shit?'_ Santana sighs dramatically, breaking the girl's embrace. "Fine, looks like we'll have to find a way to get rid of it, or at least a way for you to block all those fucking thoughts."

Rachel doesn't miss how the girl said "we" instead of "you". She beams up at Santana.

"Really?"

Brittany nods fervently.

"Hell yeah. I so don't need Q being a pain in my ass all year, thank you very much. Besides, you're a fucking mind reader, you'll be of great help." The Latina says with a devilish smile._ 'And with all the info she just got, I want her on my side.'_

"Yeah, you can tell us when Coach Sylvester is near so we can hide before she gets us," the ditzy blonde exclaims happily.

"B, she's a psychic, not a radar."

Her only answer is a frown but before the conversation can move on to some complicated and absurd conclusion of the blue-eyed girl, Rachel interrupts.

"Hey Britt, why don't you show me where the ducks are?"

And with this and a pearly white smile from the cheerleader, the three girls head together to the pond, unconscious to the bond they just created and the new path that awaits for them.

**I'm not psychic, care to share your thoughts? ;)**


	3. Chapter 3

**So sorry it takes so long. This chapter was a bitch.**

**I'm starting college next Monday, I'm NOT going to leave this story, but it may take a little to update. Not more than these past chapters though.**

**Dessa_gleek, you're my fucking savior. Thanks.**

**_Disclaimer: Glee and all its rights are not mine._**

* * *

_"Wait a minute." The taller brunette raises a perfect manicured finger. "If you can hear what we think since Monday, then you know why B and I..."_

_"Yes, I know about Quinn." Rachel smiles apologetically. "And although I appreciate her concern for the heart and brains of Glee Club, I don't understand why she couldn't ask herself."_

_Santana ignores the future Broadway star's boasting. "Yeah, me neither."_

_"So, what do we tell Q?" Brittany asks with a little voice, glancing up at her._

_"I don't know, B." She looks at Rachel with a frown. "Are you going to keep sulking, hiding from other life forms and drowning yourself in pills?"_

_..._

_"Fine, looks like we'll have to find a way to get rid of it, or at least a way for you to block all those fucking thoughts."_

_Rachel doesn't miss how the girl said "we" instead of "you". She beams up at Santana._

_"Really?"_

_Brittany nods fervently._

_"Hell yeah. I so don't need Q being a pain in my ass all year, thank you very much. Besides, you're a fucking mind reader, you'll be of great help." The Latina says with a devilish smile. _'And with all the info she just got, I want her on my side.'

...

To be honest, Rachel doesn't expect a big change to happen on Santana and Brittany's part. Sure they shared a sort of heart to heart moment in the park; sure they had actually hung out without any major incident; sure she knows their secrets and consequently they know hers, but Rachel isn't so naïve to think that it could overcome their animosity from all these past years (at least on Santana's behalf) and they are suddenly going to be best buddies.

So, when Britt approaches her next day in the lockers bouncing on her tip toes and followed closely by an eye-rolling Santana, she doesn't know what to expect.

"Berry." The Latina greets as she's engulfed by one of Brittany's bear hugs. "Let's get this shit clear. We're here 'cause we have a deal; as soon as the job is done, we go back to being HBIC, you go back to your Broadway paraphernalia world and we _never_ talk about this again. Have I made myself clear?"

"Very much, Santana."

"Good, now let's go eat."

...

They choose to go to the bleachers, firstly, because Rachel keeps getting headaches when being in a crowd and secondly, because the cheerleaders are still reluctant to being seen hanging out with RuPaul.

Once they sat, Brittany opens her lunch bag with curiosity before frowning profusely.

"Yuck, Coach's lunch." She sniffs inside, making a disgusted face.

Santana catches the starlet's confused expression. "Coach Sylvester has us into another of her diets – based on phosphorus this time – something about having the bones as hard as fighting a wild bear with only a spork as a weapon. That's probably some sort of raw fish."

Rachel cringes.

"She won't let us take our lunches from home." Britt pouts.

"Yeah, she has the cafeteria women _cooking_ this crap for us every morning," Santana adds. She grabs her purse and starts rummaging in it.

"She threatened my mom and now my cat always sniffs me when I get home."

"Here," Santana finally finds what she was looking for and hands the Hershey bar to her friend. "I sneaked it out for you."

Brittany gasps and claps excitedly before kissing Santana straight on the lips. The Latina freezes, blushing a deep red – which on her skin looks just like a faint blush – and glances at Rachel. The blonde, realizing her mistake, bites her lips worried._ 'Oh, S said not in school.'_

"Well," Rachel tries to break the awkward tension, "although it is a very sweet gesture, Santana – no pun intended – I think it would be counterproducent to eat that candy and not consume the recommended nutritive value, even more for an athlete. That being said, I would be very glad to share my avocado and mushroom sandwich with you Britt. I am aware that you are not familiar with vegan-friendly food, however, I think you'll find it very tasty."

Rachel hands half the sandwich to the blonde, who looks at it quizzically, but after the first bite, she nods to herself and smiles excited to the prospect of a full actual meal.

The shorter girl looks tentatively at Santana, who sends her a curt nod. _'Thanks Berry.'_

Rachel has the best lunch since school started.

...

"I cannot go in there." It hurts Rachel to even pronounce this words that go so much against her principles.

"What the fuck, Berry?" Santana stops her by the arm when the brunette tries to escape on their way to the choir room. "You can't miss it again! Schue won't know how to act, Quinn – with her new craze – would have an aneurism and Glee club would probably explode in a super nova."

"Once I saw a super nova." Britt chimes in.

"You mean a shooting star, B."

"No San, those are actually airplanes."

Santana sighs then turns her attention back to Rachel. "We'll help you with your issue or something."

"Firstly, you can't possibly help me with my _issue, _not like this anyways. Secondly," she pauses dramatically and Santana takes the opportunity to pull her forward, "I can't see Finn."

"Why? You broke up with him, now he's all glummy and you feel guilty. Get over it, shit happens; sometimes to you, sometimes _because_ of you."

"That's not the reason." They finally get to the choir room and Rachel stops again. "Since my mental power has developed and I have the ability to hear his thoughts, I've discovered a side of him that doesn't appeal to me at all. It's like I never knew him in the first place."

_'She's better off without him. He's a dimwit and awful in bed,'_ the Latina thinks briefly.

"What?"

"Oh, shit," Santana murmurs. "Hey, Berry, no hard feelings, it wasn't anything personal."

"I can't believe it."

"Why? I mean you know I'm a bitch." Santana says matter-of-factly.

"No, not you." She pushes the door forcefully and enters the room, followed by the two cheerleaders. They spot Finn sitting on the drums immediately. "_Him._"

With her perfectioned-over-the-years strut, she steps in front of the boy, her cold glare raising the hairs on the back of his neck.

"Finn Hudson! How dare you?" She spat, her eyes narrowed to slits.

_'Oh shit. She must have find out about Santana. Shitshitshit, I was hoping she wouldn't, not so soon!'_

She gasps indignant. "I waited for you! We were supposed to be made for each other. _I _was supposed to be your special one! I can't believe how treacherous you are. You miserable excuse of a boyfriend! You shameless liar! You deceitful, untrustworthy, hypocrite..."

"Asshole." Santana offers.

"Asshole!" Rachel looks like she just ran a marathon. "Thank you, Santana."

"Anytime."

There's something similar to static in Rachel's head created by all the glee clubber's thoughts mixed with the anger and the adrenaline. She marvels on it for just a second, absently rubbing her wounded hand.

While Mr. Schuester and the rest of the group stare dumbfounded, Rachel takes her seat with her head held high and she eyes the room with her old "what-is-wrong-with-you-why-aren't-we-rehearsing-already?" look. The teacher tries to start rehearsal quite awkwardly, and Mercedes pats her on the back.

"It's good to have you back."

"Yeah, Glee would be boring without our biggest diva," Kurt comments with an unusual honesty.

Rachel looks around to see them nodding in mutual agreement. She can't help but watch how Quinn drops her gaze to her lap, her lips twitching in what looks like a lost battle to keep her from smiling. _'She did it. God, she did it, finally,'_ she thinks making Rachel beam.

"Thanks guys. It's good to be back."

...

When Saturday comes and Rachel gets a text from Brittany to meet them at the Starbucks to put their plan into practice, she starts to think that maybe things are actually changing.

She parks her car next to the familiar red Camaro and takes a deep breath before walking to the building. It takes her a few minutes to realize that the adorable couple giggling on the sofa at the far corner is, actually, the two cheerleaders. She has to do a double take because Santana and Brittany in jeans is not an usual sight.

"Hello."

The casual pair turns to her. "Oh, hi Rach."

"Berry, sit."

She does. "Although I greatly appreciate what you're doing for me, I feel the need to point out that, I doubt a crowded building like this is the most appropriate place to work. I'm currently hearing four orders from the waiters, random thoughts from about six different conversations and what looks like a History essay. If you consider this, I'm sure you'll realize why an isolated location would be-"

"Shut it, Streisand." Santana groans.

Rachel shuts for a second before deciding to press further. "But, you really should reconsider-"

"Rach," Brittany interrupts more softly. "What we want to say if you'd let us, is that we choose this place so you could, like, practice better."

"Practice better?"

"Yeah." The blonde smiles brightly.

"I don't-"

"Look Berry, we need a crowd so you can tell us who and what you hear and we can find a way so you don't."

"Like, block them out," Britt says, being unusually wise.

"Exactly."

"Okay, we can... try that." Rachel nods.

They order some coffee and Rachel tries to relax and explain what's happening in her head as accurate as possible. She does as she said, pointing out what she's hearing, who she thinks she's hearing and as per Britt's request, what does it feel like to be a psychic.

"I don't know. I don't hear a clear sound per see, but I can recognize voices. It's more like... an echo."

"So you can hear like, everything I think?" The blonde inquires.

"No, I doubt so. Just the stronger thoughts, the main ideas."

_'Can you hear that?'_ Santana thinks.

"Yeah." Rachel gives her a small smile.

_'Eight thousand, six hundred and fifty-nine.'_

"Eight thousand, six hundred and fifty-nine."

"You're good." The Latina smirks.

"Thanks. I guess."

"Oh, oh! I wanna try!" Brittany squeals. _'I like pancakes.'_

"You like pancakes," Rachel repeats amused.

The blonde gasps excited, looking at her best friend with wide eyes. "She's _good._"

They keep on with their personal game. After a while, Rachel realizes her head is for once not hurting although she has been in a room full of people for almost two hours.

"How strange," she mumbles.

"What is it Berry?"

"I just... I've been here for hours and my head is perfectly fine." Santana arches an eyebrow questioningly. "I should be in great pain by now, dizzy and confused from the jumble of thoughts. But, in fact I..." Rachel's eyes widen comically. "Holy mother of Barbra."

"What?" Santana half barks, half laughs.

"I- I haven't heard a thought apart from yours since we started this _practice."_

"You mean trying to listen to _us _is like, helping?" Britt asks.

"I- I don't- yeah, maybe." Rachel's mind is racing a mile per second, her arms flailing everywhere. "Maybe, if I- maybe the trick is to focus on something else."

Just as she says this, the buzz of voices reveals itself again.

"Oh, I'm- I'm hearing it again." She closes her eyes and rubs her temples soothingly. "And it's loud."

"Hold on, maybe the tricks is not to focus on something else, but, to _not_ focus on hearing them." Santana points to the people in the room.

"What do you mean?"

"Okay, uhm... okay, I got it." She breathes, like she's preparing herself to explain a complex math problem. "I have this _really _annoying obsession with clocks."

"I'm sorry, Santana, but what does this even have to do with anything?"

She narrows her eyes at the shorter brunette. "If you shut up and listen for a second you'll see my point."

Rachel presses her lips firmly together.

"I can't stand the fucking tik-tok of the clock, it drives me literally insane. When I'm in a room with one of these, I can't concentrate, it makes me angry and anxious and sometimes even sick."

"Wow."

"Yeah, but that only happens when I _want_ silence. You know, when I'm trying to sleep or when I need to study. That's when I hear it the most."

"I still don't see the point-"

"I asked my therapist," Santana says louder to cut her off, "and she said my problem is that I _know _the clock is there and that if I perk my ears a little I'd hear it and it will drive me crazy. And because I acknowledge it, I can't stop thinking about it and then I can't help but pay attention to it and go completely nuts. She says I have to learn to _unfocus._"

Rachel absorbs it quietly.

"See what I mean?"

"Yes, I think I see the similarities now," she nods thoughtfully.

"I told you it had a point."

"So, Rachel's with people's thoughts like you are with clocks?" Britt asks trying to follow the conversation.

"Maybe. And she pays attention to them, but not on purpose."

"It's very likely," Rachel agrees.

"So, what are you gonna do with this info?"

"Well, right now," she glances at her phone, "nothing, because I have to be home for dinner. But I'll think about it tonight and I'll let you know."

"Whatever."

Rachel stands and waits awkwardly. "Thank you both for this. I really mean it."

"Yeah, well, you owe us a few good gossip."

The brunette gasps. "Santana! I'm not going to use this ability to give you gossiping material. That'd be immoral and plain wrong, not to mention a violation of privacy."

"Geez, Berry, chill the fuck out, I was kidding." Santana rolls her eyes._ 'No I wasn't.'_

"Santana!"

"Fuck, Berry, stop violating my privacy!" She says coldly, but Rachel can see the hint of a smirk on her lips.

"That was- I wasn't- I have to go." Rachel rushes out of the building before the Latina can play her again.

…

The rest of the weekend goes by too fast for Rachel's liking; she'd have preferred to have more time to apply the new theory. However, she has done a lot of progress.

By Sunday evening, Rachel has the art of "shutting downher psychic ears"- like she has named the new stage of dominating the power- trainedenough to be around her dad's with normalcy.

Rachel finds out that she doesn't have to try very hard to unfocus. In fact, she doesn't have to try _at all_. The secret is to ignore the murmur of voices like you would ignore the noises of chatter in a cafe. She knows they're only two people and in highschool it's going to be way harder, but she's optimistic.

...

_'Nice belt Berry, where did you leave the skirt?'_

Rachel shuts her locker and turns to the familiar voice huffing.

"I heard that, Santana."

"I know, that was my intention." The Latina smirks. Britt on her side, waves with the hand that is not linking pinkies with Santana.

"Oh, you took off the bandage," the blonde points out.

"Yes, it's almost healed and this kind of wounds needs to be oxygenated. Both my dad's are doctors – not that I've told them the true nature of the scar and I tried to hide it as much as possible, seen as it doesn't look _at all_ like a BaByliss burn – but it's basic knowledge. Besides, they made me take a curse of first aid that-"

"_Berry._" Santana groans. _'I swear, one day, I'm gonna stuff all that argyle down her throat.'_

Rachel knows she shouldn't be offended by what Santana just thought, mainly because she wasn't supposed to hear it in the first place. But she did and that only means she was paying attention. A faint blush cover her cheeks suddenly as she realizes that she, in fact, cares about what Santana Lopez thinks of her.

Well, is it that bad? They're now some sort of weird comrades, along with team-mates, so it's only logical Rachel wants to be on their good side, and now she has an easy way to get there.

"Sorry, Santana, I know my rants may be suffocating sometimes. It always happens when I'm nervous; you'll find that I'm quite enjoyable when I relax."

"I doubt that." She snorts.

"I like you when you speak like a normal person." Britt adds.

_'I guess she was okay on Saturday,'_ Santana mentally admits.

A flashing grin appears on Rachel's face and the Latina's eyes widen. She points at Rachel in a half-heartfelt threat.

"You- you cheater. Stop. Invading. My head. Without. My consent." She grabs Britt by the hand and they leave in a rush.

Rachel giggles quietly and when she looks up to make her way to class, she finds that half the student body is gaping at her in mixed awe, astonishment and terror. She guesses that the Freak Queen getting along with the most popular girls in McKinley, in the middle of the hall, must be an unnerving sight.

…

By the last period, almost everybody knows that Rachel "Man-hands" Berry is on Santana's good side and consequently, banned territory for the bullies. And boy, does it feel good.

She's currently walking Britt to her class, which happens to be two doors from hers.

"Hey, Rach," the girl calls when she's about to enter the room.

"Yes, Britt?"

"Are we hanging out later, for... _you know what_?"

And if there was any doubt that something was up with Berry and the Cheerios, now it's painfully obvious. Rachel tries not to blush at some of the very strong and unavoidable thoughts Britt's accidental sexual innuendo raised between the people in the hallway.

"Sure. We'll talk later." She scurries inside and takes her seat at the front of the class.

She's not really worried anymore. She's been doing just fine all morning with blocking the flow of thoughts from the students and she can finally concentrate on the teacher's lesson and be relieved that her grades are not going to lower. And she's grateful, mostly, in classes like this.

Math has always been her least favorite subject. Numbers are not her forte. Make her talk, remember, rationalize and explain, that she'll do great. But she's lost when it comes to abstract points and coordinates in the space. Like, Finn-in-a-history-museum kind of lost. So it really comes in handy that she can finally take notes and-

_'...definitely looks better. Whatever S and B did, worked.'_

Rachel's lips curve in a shy smile at the echo of that voice. It shouldn't be a surprise that her filter can't possibly work in Quinn Fabray's case. She's too interested.

Between hanging out with Santana and Brittany and "shutting down her psychic ears", she hasn't had time to sit and ponder Quinn's thoughts towards her. There's not much to evaluate, Rachel assures herself, it's not like the blonde had so outraged thoughts, they were just... nice, while she isn't and that kind of puts Rachel off.

_'What did they do anyway? They go from ignoring her, to escorting her to class, eating lunch with her and hanging out with her. They were supposed to check on her, not befriend her!'_

Rachel's face falls. And there's your answer, she thinks. Even if she has intriguing thoughts, Quinn still wants her to be alone and have no friends.

_'Fuck's sake Fabray, you're so jealous. You really need to get your shit together, it's pathetic.'_

The teacher's lesson is long forgotten and Rachel has to remind herself she's still in class and bolting from her seat shouting "What?" would be revolting.

_'You can start by stopping with the staring. It's ridiculous and someone might notice.'_

Rachel can't help but glance over her shoulder to catch her, indeed, staring. Quinn blushes and busies herself with a pen, writing down what the brunette can only figure are senseless doodles.

She turns to the front of the class again, biting her lip and trying really hard to steady her racing heart and convince herself that what she's suspecting has to be a big misunderstanding of her overactive mind.

...

Rachel knows it's wrong.

One thing is not being able to control her power and the other is purposely focusing on reading one specific person's mind. Like she told Santana a few days ago, it's a violation of privacy. But she suffocates her concerns repeating herself that it's okay as long as she doesn't use it against the individual. And she's not planning to, really.

She couldn't stop it either ways, it's addictive.

During the classes they share, she focuses on the teacher until the soft, almost musical voice rings through her mind. And even if she's getting better and better controlling her psychic ears, she can't seem to block her. Rachel doesn't want to, not at all. So when she unconsciously recognizes her voice she listens, like a greedy kid on Christmas day, excited and expectantly, ready to open a new present and marvel with what she might find inside.

Every day, Rachel has a small preview of Quinn Fabray's mind and she can't seem to get enough.

The blonde usually thinks about the lesson. Rachel finds the girl is brilliant and excels at almost everything. Lately, she has started thinking about tactics to rejoin Cheerios. It makes Rachel uneasy, but she figures it was expected.

Sometimes she thinks about Beth and the brunette gives her some privacy and sometimes, more often than not, she thinks about her and Rachel can't help but commit every word to memory.

Today is different, though. Quinn is slumped in her chair, resting her head on her crossed arms and her mind completely blank. It takes Rachel a few minutes to realize that the blonde is knocked out. She considers calling her to wake her but then the blonde shifts and her face is facing her and Rachel can't muster the courage to do it; she looks too adorable.

Briefly wondering the reason of Quinn's tiredness, she decides to take advantage and give her complete attention to Mr. Monroe. Rachel wouldn't have thought it twice if it weren't because, the next day, she finds Quinn in a similar position.

She's sitting on her Biology lab stool, face propped up on her hand, eye-lids half closed and the microscope in front of her completely untouched. She bites her tongue, pondering if she should go and ask but when the teacher snaps her fingers in front of Quinn's face and the blonde bolts up, she shrugs it off and goes back to her meiotic cells.

The next morning, when she sees Quinn leaning on her locker, her hair wet and wincing as she stretches her neck, she finally lets some of her concerns flows. Rachel slowly approaches the blonde, convincing herself that she's doing this only because she's worried for her team-mate and not because she misses Quinn's thoughts concerning her. Really, she's not that self-centered.

"Quinn?"

_'You have got to be kidding me.'_ She faces her slowly, her eyes full of disbelief. _'Not now God, I don't have strength to face her _now.' "Berry."

"Hi." She stands there awkwardly, listening carefully for any other thought that may cross her mind. "How- how are you?"

_'Exhausted.'_ "Fine."

"Oh. Okay. Because I thought I'd just come and say hi to my team-mate, a simple way of greeting on this wonderful day-"

_'I won't be able to stand her adorable ramble, not today.'_

"-and see if you're doing good, because we need our glee members in their optimum state of mind in order to perfect our performances and... that's why I came; not any ulterior motives. Nope." She finishes lamely.

"Berry. Just leave." Quinn says tiredly. _'Before I do something stupid.'_

"Okay. Yes. I'll see you in class. Bye."

As the rest of the day goes by, Rachel watches Quinn from afar, barely noticing how stalker-ish it looks. When she walks into Glee that afternoon, an alarming number of outlandish theories have crossed her mind and – fortunately – been rejected, but the unusual sight she finds, doesn't help her over-dramatic imagination.

Quinn is lying over a couple of chairs, her feet in one, her middle in another and her head on Puck's lap. Rachel can't help but stare at the sleeping beauty, whose pale lavender dress has bunched up on her tights, showing a trail of skin that makes Rachel's breath catch.

She glances up at Puck who's looking at the girl in his lap with a special shine in his eyes; one that Rachel recognizes as adoration. Through his mind are echoing the lyrics of "Beth".

The boy catches Rachel's eyes and smiles at her; a real, charming smile that once got Rachel to fall for him, and she returns it.

_'Is it me or Berry's skirts are shorter every day? Dayum!'_

"Always the same," she mutters under her breath, rolling her eyes and taking a seat next to the Cheerios. "Do you happen to know what's wrong with Quinn?"

"What do you mean?" Santana frowns. Rachel nods to the blonde. "That? Coach Sylvester has been beating her so she can be on the team again."

"She trains every morning before class and every afternoon, even the days we have Glee." Brittany clarifies.

"She's... she's becoming a Cheerio again?" The short diva asks apprehensively.

"Yeah."

"But, what about Glee?"

"She can do both, hello B, Kurt and I? She's not leaving Glee club." The Latina points out._ 'She likes it too much. We all do.'_

"But-"

"Q will still be nice, she's not gonna be mean again and call you names or throw slushies at you. She's happy now."

"I- I wasn't- that's not-" Santana arches her eyebrows and Britt smiles knowingly. Rachel wonders for a second if she's actually the psychic one. "Is she really happy now?"

"She's definitely better." Santana says glancing briefly at her friend.

"Her mom's trying real hard."

"I'm... glad to hear that."

Right on cue, Mr. Schuester clears his throat loudly to grab their attention and start the class.

"Before we start rehearsal, I just want you to know that I've put up a poster for anyone who might want to join Glee on the bulletin board. So, maybe, hopefully, we'll have some new member this next week!"

...

"I'm not sure I like the idea of new people in this club." Kurt tells Mercedes, when the rehearsal is over. The girl nods at him.

"What? You're afraid of a little competition for solos?" Puck teases making the boy snort in disbelief.

"I think it's a great idea. The more people we are, the better show we can do."

"That's a highly common mistake, Tina, but not for it less wrong. The fact that there are more interprets is not directly connected with better performances – Vocal Adrenaline, anyone? –, and I'll remind you that what the judges are going to consider is our _q__uality_, not _qua__n__tity._"

"So you agree with Kurt?" Artie asks.

"No. I think everyone should have the possibility to enjoy the wonderful experience of Glee Club and I'm never one to close the door to new friends." Rachel takes her place in the front of the class. "Besides, I'm not sure if any of you had taken the time to read the rules of the contest, but in order to participate we need twelve members. That does not mean that we can fall into the huge misconception Tina refered before. We have to keep in mind that our final goal is the perfection of our voices and choreography, so our performances reach the point of being top-quality, prize-winning, Vocal-Adrenaline-is-scum-next-to-you performances. We have to show those soulless automatons that we can bite back, that we don't give up and that we deserve that trophy, dammit! And the way to get that is work, work, _work."_

The brunette finishes her speech panting, her chest heaving with every breath and a contagious fierceness in her eyes. Quinn is staring at her with mixed awe and fake nonchalance, but her thoughts betray her_. 'Who knew Rachel could be so fierce? That's kinda... hot. – dammit, I need some fresh air and maybe a cold shower. Dammit!'_

Rachel smiles broadly and looks at the rest, trying to gauge their reactions too.

"So, we will all be here next week and welcome the new members with open arms and a smile, right?"

_'Whatever, but I'm not sharing any more Wicked solos.' _Kurt thinks stubbornly.

_'Mhm, there could be some hottie for the Puckanator... hell yeah...'_

_'I wish there would be some dancer, since Matt left it'll be harder to do the choreography.' _Mike gives her a thumbs-up.

_'Are we really gonna stand with our arms opened and wait for them? That's like, lame...'_

_'Bite. Me. Berry.'_ Rachel's smile falters a little as Santana's smirk grows._ 'And I know you heard that.'_

"Great! Looks like we all agree on this!" The brunette says unsure. She walks to the bleachers and bends over to grab her purse, taking the opportunity to whisper harshly on Santana's ear. "Don't do that Santana, you scared me!"

The Latina laughs throatily. "Oh, Berry, I'm gonna have so much fun with you."

"Shush."

"Hey S, you guys ready to go?"

Rachel turns slowly to Quinn, who has approached them without her even noticing.

"Yeah, hold on, let me call my mom."

"We're going to my place to watch a movie and eat junk food, you coming?" Britt asks her bouncing on the balls of her feet.

"I..." Rachel glances at the hazel-eyed girl who seems to be in an internal turmoil.

_'NO. Don't- oh my God, it's hard enough to stop myself from jumping her at school when my guard is up; watching a movie, in the same room, in the same couch? No way, she's not coming.'_

"It's game night tonight and it's pretty much sacred in the Berry's household, so I'm going to have to decline."

_'Thank God.' _Quinn seems to let out a breath she was holding. "Whatever, can we go now?"

...

Rachel has indeed, a game night with her dads. But after kissing them goodnight and her nightly routine, she lays wide awake in bed, thoughts of hazel eyes and golden hair invading her mind.

She can't keep rejecting the idea that Quinn might be attracted to her. It sounds ridiculous even in her head, but there's no way to excuse the blonde's thoughts and make them look innocent. Rachel just can't rationalize it anymore; it's painfully obvious.

The question now is how she feels about it.

Of course Quinn is breathtakingly beautiful and, now that all the baby fat is gone, her body is definitely hot. She's smart and funny and although sometimes sharp, she has a fantastic voice. If Rachel's being honest, she's always held her interest, even when she was mean, and now that the brunette has had a preview of the real Quinn, the one hidden underneath the Ice Queen facade, she has to admit that her obsession with Quinn is only growing. And if we take into consideration the tingling feeling in her tummy every time the blonde's voice rings through her mind, the possibility of this attraction being mutual is not so exorbitant.

Rachel's not opposed at all to the idea of felling attracted to another girl. Having two gay dads, she's been raised in a very open-minded and tolerant environment and never been one to reject love in any form or shape. But she's somewhat apprehensive to the object of her supposed attraction.

Quinn Fabray is... a mystery. The girl seems to have an obvious physical attraction to her, but she still treats Rachel like an unpleasant visitor and, although she has been playing down her insults and actually being civil to her, she's still cold and distant. This is the main reason of Rachel's uneasiness; how can someone like and dislike a person at the same time? Hearing Quinn, and _hearing_ Quinn, is like being faced with a bipolar person, or the worst case of Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde.

Rachel's seriously confused by the surrealism of it all. For fuck's sake, the girl was throwing slushies at her a few months ago! If she wasn't so sure that her ability is failure-proof, she would have never even considered any sort of interest- even if only physical- on the blonde's part.

And Rachel Berry is nothing but thorough. So, for the sake of science – and only for this reason; seriously – she decides to find out more about this new path that her previous mortal enemy seems to be taking. Or so she thinks Quinn is.

As the turn of events finally sinks in, she starts to drift into dreamland and all the tension of her body goes away with a languid sigh and the promise of a future plan to figure Quinn out.

* * *

**That's chapter 3. Please, _please,_ tell me what you think 'cause this chapter literally gave me a headache.**

**Oh, and more Faberry to come :)**


	4. Chapter 4

**I'm really sorry for how long each chapter takes, I just hope it's worth the wait.**

**This chapter is unbeta'd, I'm sorry for that.**

**Oh and I have no freaking idea if there's a Homecoming Ball in McKinley. Let's think there is for the sake of the story. Also, THERE ARE IMPORTANT LINKS ON MY PROFILE.**

**Disclaimer: Glee belongs to Ryan Murphy and Fox. The proverbial lemon belongs to Jane815. What do I own, you ask? A laptop and a canary named Milo.**

* * *

_And Rachel Berry is nothing but thorough. So, for the sake of science – and only for this reason; seriously – she decides to find out more about this new path that her former mortal enemy seems to be taking. Or so she thinks Quinn is._

_As the turn of events finally sinks in, she starts to drift into dreamland and all the tension of her body goes away with a languid sigh and the promise of a future plan to figure Quinn out._

**...**

It's vibrant.

It catches her eye and automatically makes her tremor. It has always stood out in the crowd. People part and bow at its sight and she can feel the power it emanates even in the distance.

It's the Cheerios uniform and it's being shown by one Quinn Fabray.

Rachel holds her breath as she watches Quinn strutting down the hallway to her locker with the fitted red shirt and flapping skirt. She doesn't know what to feel. In other circumstances she'd be slightly apprehensive, even a little scared, but not today. Rachel smirks to herself. She has a good advantage, an ace up her sleeve, a secret power.

She kinda feels like a super hero with a secret identity.

There's even a tune resounding in her head, like her personal soundtrack and she struts towards the blonde, her steps matching the beat.

"Good morning, Quinn."

The cheerleader freezes for a second with her hand still in the locker door.

_'It can't be... what is she doing?' _Quinn thinks as she turns. "Ra-_ Berry_." _'Rachel? Really? Since when Fabray?'_

"I've noticed that you are back to your uniform, which I have to say, is still fitting you perfectly, if not better than before the pregnancy. It doesn't take a genius to figure out you have been reinstated on the Cheerios and although I never doubted in your possibilities, I merely wanted to congratulate you for your success in the selection and your comeback to the top of the food chain."

"Uhm..."_ 'Is it me or there was a compliment somewhere in that monologue?' _Quinn thinks briefly. "Thanks or whatever."

Rachel beams. She _did_ slip a compliment in her speech, just to see Quinn's reaction and so far, it has been positive.

_'Don't smile like that... why is she- oh God, I'm screwed.'_ Rachel only smiles wider, her eyes lighting up at Quinn's thoughts. _'That's cute. Oh shit, Fabray, stop that. And look away for God's sake!'_

The blonde huffs and looks over Rachel's shoulder, meeting the students eyes with an icy glare. Rachel decides to give her a break.

"Okay, well, see you in Math." Quinn watches the brunette walk towards Britt and Santana. Rachel says something and her and Brittany wave to the Latina before making their way to class.

"What's wrong with you? Hellooo! Earth to Juno?" It's the last thing Rachel hears before turning the corner.

...

"Are you coming to the Mall with us on Friday?" Brittany asks with a smile.

"The Mall?"

"Duh, Homecoming is this weekend," Santana says matter-of-factly.

"Oh, is it?" She asks not really interested.

"We'll help you pick a dress. Oh, S, can we chose a pretty dress for Rachel? She's so cute and her body is hot, if she wears a nice dress she'll be the prettiest."

Rachel doesn't know what to say. Did Brittany just called her hot? Besides, she didn't have in mind to go to the dance, not after what happened with Finn.

"I'm not really g-"

"Cute? Yeah, like in a wet poodle in a wool sweater kind of way. Talking about awful taste, what on the name of God is that thing on your sweater?"

"I think it's an alien," the blonde says and Santana crinkles her nose.

"Not it's not. It's a rabbit and this happens to be one of my favorite sweaters," Rachel announces proudly as they enter the choir room.

They sit two seats away from Quinn, who immediately starts stealing glances at the peculiar trio. Puck's at her side, scanning the room like he owns it and Mr. Schue is nowhere to be seen, just like Kurt and Mercedes. Tina and Artie are watching Mike trying to teach Finn some move and laughing hysterically at the desperation the dancer is clearly feeling.

"Whatever, your taste is awful and that sweater is ugly as fuck."

"S, be nice." Britt pouts.

"Why? I mean, it's not like she's not gonna do the mind tricky," Santana whispers the two last words, "and know what I'm thinking anyway. So might as well take advantage of the free pass."

"I'm not convinced at all by your twisted logic, but I guess I'm going to have to deal with it, seen as you two are the only ones I can talk to." Rachel sighs, leaning back on her chair and crossing her legs.

"Don't you forget it Berry," Santana concludes with a nod and a smirk.

_'Holy mother of- Are you punishing me God? Is this some kind of test? Do you hate me that much?'_

Rachel perks up at Quinn's thought, a little bit alarmed by what may have caused the blonde's distress.

_'Please not her legs. Anything but that.'_

The brunette has to bite the inside of her cheek to stop her smile. Mischievously, she decides a little teasing can't do much harm. She deliberately uncrosses her legs and then slowly crosses them again the other way around; the most femme fatal move she can manage.

_'Oh God. Ohfuck. So much skin.'_ Rachel hears the jumbled thoughts and leans back even further on the chair. _'How is it even possible for a shorty like her to have those endless legs? And they look so... smooth. So soft, so touchable... kissable... I'd love to bite right the inside of that tan thigh that's peeking under that sinfully short skirt and run my hands up and up and right between- shit, Fabray! Get yourself together, you're like a horny teenage boy!'_

Quinn's little internal monologue leaves Rachel blushing like a mad woman and ridiculously flustered. She hurries to sit properly and tries to cover the most expanse of skin she can.

"What? What is it?" Santana asks avidly, like the shark that just smelled the drop of blood in its tank.

Rachel shakes her head vehemently. "It's nothing, Santana."

"Oh no. No, no, no, no. Not now Berry. You just heard some juicy thought and I want to know- hell _we" _she points between her and Brittany, "deserve to know."

"And how did you possibly earn that right, pray tell?"

Santana falls quiet suddenly, a million excuses running through her mind.

"We are keeping your secret," Britt states calmly, creating two different reactions, Santana's satisfaction and Rachel's terror.

"That... that's blackmail and it's wrong!"

"No silly, that's called friends," Brittany clarifies._ 'No wonder she's never had friends if she gives them those weird names.'_

The admission of their friendship takes Rachel by surprise and she feels a smile slowly creeping to her face.

"Yeah, emotive shit, blah, blah, whatever. Point is, who and what were they thinking about?"

Right on cue Mr. Schuester arrives followed by Mercedes, Kurt and a cute blonde boy.

_'This is not over, half-pint.'_

Rachel squirms in her seat, afraid of the conversation she's pretty sure she'll have to endure with Santana later.

"Okay guys!" Schue exclaims with her usual over-enthusiasm. "Mercedes and Kurt had been hunting down for new potential members for the Glee Club and they tell me this boy over here has the voice and the charm to be a good male lead."

Said boy waves awkwardly.

"Weren't you the ones who didn't want more members?" Puck recalls confused.

Mercedes looks at Kurt, a silent conversation happening between them._ '...worth it if the guy is this hot. But they don't need to know that.' _It's all Rachel catches. She rolls her eyes.

"When you hear his voice, you'll understand why we made an exception," Kurt quickly makes up. The rest of the Club seem interested now.

"Why don't you introduce yourself and show us what you got then?" Mr. Schue offers.

"Yeah, uh, well... hi. My name is Sam, I've been transferred from-"

This is all Rachel gets to hear because, just as suddenly as it always happen, Quinn's voice invade her mind full-force.

_'Mh, the boy's cute. Male lead potential uh? I wonder if Berry's gonna want him too...'_ The brunette turns to Quinn as subtly as she can manage, only to see a small frown on the blonde's face._ 'I can't let that happen again, dammit! Now that she's not with Finn she'll... she... No. No, I don't care what she does. All I care about is... cute... hot... boys? Yes, like Sam.'_

Sam is belting out a song Rachel doesn't recognize, or she's just too focused on Quinn's thoughts to be bothered about it. So, the blonde thinks she's going to pursue Sam now? That's plain ridiculous considering there's another blonde holding Rachel's interests at the moment. And she's a little bit offended too; just because the boy has a nice voice doesn't mean she's going to fall for him. What does she think Rachel is? A schoolgirl? And now Quinn is interested in Sam too? Why must she be so confusing?

Rachel huffs quietly, earning a questioningly glance from Santana and a muttered "Weirdo."

"Great! That was fantastic, wasn't it?" Mr. Schue asks excited. The fellow clubbers look satisfied enough and Mercedes and Kurt have a very pleased expression on their faces. "I think you're in then. Welcome to our little kingdom, Sam!"

…

Practice is going to end any minute now and Rachel is counting down the seconds to make the fastest sprint to her car ever. Santana, at her side, looks completely unfazed by her obvious anxiety and stares calmly at the front of the class._ 'Oh Berry you're so predictable...'_

"Let's wrap it up here and I'll see you next day!" Just as Mr. Schue says this words, Rachel bolts out of her chair just to find herself anchored to the spot.

"What-" She turns to see the Latina fisting the back of her sweater and wearing her trade-mark smirk.

"Sit." Santana pulls the girl back until she falls on the chair again.

"Those were some terrific reflexes, Santana," she says glumly.

"Coach used to throw balloons at us so we'd "improve our ability to react"," Brittany chimes in.

"That doesn't sound so bad."

"She said they were full of arsenic."

"Oh my god, that's awful! Was it true?"

"Clearly with that prospect, no one ever got hit, so we'll never know. But that's beside the point. You know what we want to know- and even though I bet it's probably just Puck recalling the kinky porn he watched last night- just spill it so we can leave," Santana says as she stands in front of the girl, folding her arms and trapping Rachel between her and the chair.

She takes a deep breath trying to gain some time. Lying would be the easiest way to scape this inquiry, she knows; but Rachel also knows that if there is someone who can help her figure out what's going on with Quinn, those are Britt and Santana.

Out of the corner of her eye, she sees Quinn getting up and walking towards the new kid. Hands on her hips and chin held high, the blonde flashes him her charming smile and introduces herself as Quinn Fabray, head Cheerio. Sam looks automatically smitten.

Rachel scoffs.

"Okay, whatever! You want to know _who_ was thinking _what_? Splendid, I'll tell you. Let's go."

...

When they reach the park, Santana rounds her car and jumps on the hood.

"Spill."

"With one condition," Rachel mutters as she sits next to the Latina, careful not to wrinkle her skirt. The blonde sits on the other side.

Santana groans, leaning back on the hood and shielding her eyes from the sun with her hand. "What condition?"

"You can't ask for details."

"That's no fun!" She whines.

"Santana, they were having very descriptive sexual thoughts, I'm not giving you the details!"

"Didn't know you were such a prude."

"Do you want me to tell you or not?"

_'Fine,'_ Santana thinks making Rachel smirk.

"Well, this... person, has been having... uhm _sexy_ thoughs about... uhm, me."

"What? Who on their fucking right mind would do that?" She sits up in a rush.

"I would," Britt states surely making Santana cringe and Rachel blush

"Well, thank you Brittany."

"Anyways, who's the pea-size brain that has dirty thoughts about you?"

"I don't think I should tell you th-"

"Berry," Santana warns.

The brunette sighs and mumbles something under her breath.

"What was that?" She asks leaning into Rachel to hear better.

"Quinn. It's Quinn," she finally admits. "Quinn was having sexual thoughts about me- just like she has been since I can read her mind- together with other more endearing thoughts about how cute I am or how shiny my hair is and really, I don't know what to think anymore! She's always been so cold- and now she's flirting with what's-his-name! Just a few minutes ago you were playing a whole, detailed fantasy about my legs in your head and now you're all over that... mailbox-mouth..."

Silence falls upon them as Rachel trails off with her ramble. Brittany smiles giddily, watching a bird pecking at the ground near them and Santana is gaping at her like some sort of human-fish.

"Oh. My. God!" She finally gasps. "You're telling me Quinn Fabray is totally gay for Rachel Berry? This is fucking _crazy_."

There's a huge smirk on Santana's face as she says this and Rachel doesn't know if that's a good or a bad sign.

"Not really." Britt jumps from the hood to try to catch the bird but it flies away. She pouts.

"What do you mean, B?" Her friend gestures for her to come back to the car.

"Quinn has always liked Rachel. But not the same kind of "like" like how I like you, because I'm nice to you. Quinn isn't nice to Rachel because she likes her. Like when Danny Schmitt used to pull at my braids because he liked me."

Rachel shakes her head confused; she's not sure she understood the blonde.

"Okay, first, let's not talk about Danny, _ever again. _Second, are you sure about that?"

"Yeah."

"Oh my God..." Santana breaths.

"Wait. What? You believe it? I..." Rachel is bewildered, "...wow. I have to say I was expecting you to deny it and say something along the lines of "Quinn would rather bath on acid than like some hybrid of a drag queen and a granny like you.""

_'That actually sounds a lot like me.'_ The Latina lets out a genuine laugh. "I admit that if Britt wasn't so sure, I'd totally say that. But if she says Quinn likes you, then Quinn likes you. She's extremely perceptive."

"I don't know what that means, but I'm sure it's sweet," the blonde says giving her friend an awkward side hug. Santana chuckles.

"Anyways. Come to think of it, I guess we had some hints that Juno had the hots for you."

Rachel blushes at Santana's bluntness. "What do you mean?"

"Drawing pornographic pictures of you on bathroom stalls, the fixation she had on making your life a living hell, the hearts she used to draw around your _very accurate_ pictures," this earns a glare from the short diva, "and, you know, the obvious UST hanging all around the room when you two are near."

"UST?" Rachel asks confused.

"Unresolved Sexual Tension, Berry, where have you been living? In an igloo?"

"Oh, so that was it."

"So you _know_ what I'm talking about," Santana asks smugly. "Does the resident diva want to bed Quinn Fabray?"

"What? No! I don't- I mean, not like Quinn is not beautiful, because, she is. Very. And she has a very pleasant voice too. Not to mention the ridiculously fit body she's regained after giving birth and those mesmerizing hazel eyes that-"

"Okay, okay, enough. You're gonna make me puke at this rate."

Rachel has the decency to blush. "Well, I might be crushing a little on her."

…

The trio drives to the Mall immediately after Friday's last class. She listens to the cheerleaders banter about which Spice Girl was hotter and lets herself be dragged through rows and rows of clothes. She founds herself actually having fun.

"So, how's it going up there?" Britt asks tapping her softly on the forehead, while Santana is busy complaining for the lack of assistants in this shop.

"Good. You don't have to worry about that anymore, I have it under control," she says proudly.

"That's awesome."

It really is, Rachel thinks. But there's something that has been bothering her since day one.

"Even though..."she mumbles after Santana gestures them to follow her to the dressing room. The blonde looks at her frowning. "Do you think this is morally acceptable?"

Britt's frown seems to deepen. _'It's what?'_

"Uhm, don't you think it's wrong that I have free access to other people's deepest secrets?"

"Oh." The blonde pulls Rachel and plops them both on a dingy couch besides the dressing rooms. "You feel bad for finding out Q likes you without her knowing?"

"Yeah, I guess you can sum it up like that."

"Well, Q has always been mean to you and you never knew why. I think you deserve to know. So it's not wrong."

Rachel ponders this for a moment. If it wasn't for her power, she'd have never known that Quinn felt some sort of attraction for her and consequently, she'd have never realized her own for the hazel-eyed beauty. She doubts Quinn would have ever told her or act on her feelings on her own and Rachel would have finished high school thinking the blonde hated her guts with a passion. The bullying and mean words thrown her way through the years have taken now a completely new perspective.

Britt sighs and leans her head on Rachel's shoulder.

"Are you tired?"

The blonde just nods.

"Why?"

"I stayed at Santana's last night," she mumbles.

"Oh."

Rachel really didn't need that mental image. Fortunately for her, Santana comes out of the dressing room in that moment. The dress she chose is hugging her in all the right places, the white fabric bunched up on her left shoulder and showing off her the other, making her look like some sort of Greek goddess. Brittany bolts at the sight.

"So, I shouldn't be asking this 'cause I already know but, how do I look?"

"You look stunning Santana, I'd dare to say that this dress is the one. Not only does it show enough skin for it to be sexy without being slutty but the color makes a wonderful contrast with your tan."

"I want to rip it off you," the blonde states unblinking.

Santana shows a devious smirk and sends a wink at Britt's way. She turns to the mirror and spins a few times, admiring her figure in all the possible angles. "I don't know... maybe I should try the blue one?"

Britt slips behind her, her hands stopping at her friends hips. "No. This one. Everyone will want you."

She turns her head lightly. "Everyone?"

"Yeah." Squeezing the girl's hips one last time, the blonde moves back to the couch. Santana shuts the door stall behind her and Brittany puts her head back on Rachel's shoulder. The small girl can't stop her question.

"Britt?"

"Mhm?"

"Doesn't it bother you that Santana wants other people to want her?"

"Why would it bother me?"

"I don't know... I thought you and her..."

Brittany sits up and smiles sadly. "Sex is not dating, Rach."

"Do you want it to be?"

_'Yes.'_ Britt shrugs. "Santana doesn't. And it's okay. If it was, I wouldn't have the record of hook-ups"

Rachel nods thoughtfully as the stall opens again and the Latina comes out with the dress folded on her arm. "Next store."

…

"So, we have our dresses, we have shoes, we have accessories..." Santana recounts. She turns to Rachel slowly and squints her eyes. "Your turn."

"Yay!" Brittany squeals bouncing on her toes.

"Wait, I'm not-"

"Look at this... it's like it's made for you, Berry!" The Latina exclaims, pointing at the shop window of a clothes store for kids. The little dummy is wearing a wool dress with pink flowers embroidered all over it.

"You crack me up, Santana," Rachel deadpans.

"I crack myself up, too."

They follow a skipping Brittany into another store, Rachel still too offended to realize that the two girls are actually looking for a dress for _her._

"Oh Rach, you'd look super hot in this." The blonde holds up a short, black dress with a feathery skirt.

"Wha- No, Britt, I'm not-"

"It will show your legs. You have nice legs," she continues, pressing the dress to her body to check the length.

"It's quite short." '_I don't think Berry The Prude would wear that,'_ Santana mentally teases.

"I would!" She argues, stomping her feet on the ground. "That is, if I were going to the ball, which I'm not."

"What?" Comes the chorused question.

"It's what I've been trying to say all this past week. I'm not going."

"Why do you need a dress then?" Britt pouts, looking down at the fabulous dress she picked.

"No, Brittany, I don't need a dress. I just came because... I've never really had any friends to go shopping with. I don't know... I guess I wanted to hang out at the Mall like a normal teenager for once. I don't have any interest whatsoever in going to the Homecoming Ball."

"Wait, does this have anything to do with Q going to the party with blondie?"

"She's- what?"

"Quinn asked Sam at the end of practice yesterday. I saw them," the blonde clarifies.

Rachel's face falls. A very unpleasant feeling settles in her stomach; something similar to jealousy, but mixed with anger and outrage. Quinn has gone as far to ignore her feelings for her as to date a boy she only has known for a week. Is she really that horrible? Does Quinn really have to take _so_ much trouble just not to admit her attraction?

"Oh," Brittany mumbles sadly. "I should have told you. I forgot. Sorry, Rach."

"What? No, no, it's okay." She forces a smiles. "I don't really care."

"Sure you don't," Santana says knowingly. "Look Berry, Quinn's a dumbass. A dumbass and a pussy. She's using the poor boy, trying to deny her feelings for you... even more reasons to go to the fucking ball! She needs to face the music and grow a pair and you," she grabs the girl and pushes her to the dressing room, then throws the dress at her, "have to be there to push her."

"But, I still don't have a date..."

"You can come with us!" Brittany exclaims excited.

"Wait. No, no, no, no... Berry has to be there to unpress Quinn's lemon, yes, but let's draw a line here: she is_ not _coming with us."

"Unpress her... what?" Rachel asks dumbfounded.

"But S... it'll be great! She'll look so hot in that dress, she won't embarrass us-"

"Excuse me-"

"-and Q will be so jealous. Please, San? Pweaty pwease?"

The Latina looks back and forth at the two girls, a torn expression on her face. She focus on Brittany's puppy face and bites her lip._ 'You are so whipped, Lopez.'_ Finally she gives up with a groan.

"Fine." She leans closer to her friend. "But I expect a good amount of time alone after the ball."

When Britt nods seductively, Rachel scurries to the stall. As cute as they are, there's so much PDA from the two Cheerios she can tolerate in one afternoon.

…

"Why is everybody looking at me?" Rachel asks nervously as they walk through the crowd of people towards the corner where the Glee Club agreed to meet.

"`Cause you look smoking," Britt answers looking back at her with a smile. She is, in fact, wearing the black dress Brittany picked up for her. Briefly looking down at herself, then at her two friends, she decides it's really not that big of a deal. They both are looking like straight out of a magazine.

Santana is a mirage of a greek goddess in her white dress and Britt is leaving broken hearts in her path in that fabulous yellow dress. She kinda understands the jealous glares boys and girls are sending her way.

"There they are," Santana points out. Rachel scans the group; there's Puck, who's wearing a tuxedo but, (as he would say), still looking badass; there's the stylish overload that are Mercedes and Kurt; there's Tina with less gothic makeup than expected and Artie, wearing a cute bow tie and looking up at her endearingly and, much to her disappointment, there is no Quinn in sight.

"Check this out." Puck is the first to spot them. "You all dressed like this for the Puckster? Awh, there was no need! I like you better without those."

"Shut your face, Puckerman," Santana spits with an eye roll. "Where is your date anyway?"

"She left to get some drinks."

"Aren't you supposed to do that? I mean, it's the gentlemanly thing to do." Rachel asks as they reach the group.

'_That word is not in his vocabulary,' _Santana jokes mentally, making her chuckle in agreement.

"Hey, she offered! I'm not one to contradict a lady."

"Oh. My. God. Cedes, tell me you are seeing the same thing I'm seeing and this is not some sort of punch-induced dream," Kurt says holding his cup of punch with two fingers and openly staring at Rachel from head to toe.

"It has to be, boy. It's not even spiked yet," Mercedes answers just as impressed.

"Well, in that case, alert the media; Rachel Berry is looking, not only like a normal sixteen year old girl with a great fashion sense, but disconcertingly gorgeous."

"'Disconcertingly' being the key word," Mercedes adds quietly.

"Uh... thank you?"

"Sure." Kurt finally seems to snap out of his daze and flashes her a somewhat honest smile. "Just like I have the duty to tell you when you are breaking all the fashion rules in the history of... well, fashion; I have to admit it when you manage to look like probably the best dressed in the room."

"Excuse me. Hello?" Santana points at herself and Brittany, then does a twirl for everyone to see.

"Oh, you two looking good too, Santana," the boy comments halfheartedly. The Latina gasps.

"You two look amazing," Tina hurries to say. She nudges her boyfriend for help.

"Yeah, like... damn hot."

_'Great help, Artie.'_ Rachel hears the girl think as she glares at him. "Is just that, with the surprise factor, Rachel ends up... wining."

"Whatever," Santana scoffs, but soon enough, her blonde friend is whispering in her ear and her anger seems to deflate.

Meanwhile, Rachel is baffled. She realizes everyone has put an special effort today to look in their finest, but there's no way _anyone- _much less her- can beat the two Cheerios.

"Oh look, there's Quinn." Kurt announces. _'And the hot blonde stuff too.'_

Well, scratch that. There _so_ is someone who can beat the two Cheerios; the head Cheerio.

If Quinn has usually parted crowds like Moses parted the red sea, today she is literally opening a path that could fit a chariot. She's wearing a flimsy red dress that makes her stand out in the mass of bodies and leaving no doubt that that's definitely her power color. Her hair is down and she looks flushed, like she has been on a rush to get there. At the last second, Rachel realizes there's a small looking Sam attached to her hand and being dragged around.

"Hey everybody," she greets. The group waves and greets them back. "Sorry we're late. As incredible as it sounds, it was Miss my-hair-still-doesn't-look-perfect's fault."

"Well, you know... this takes its time." Sam says pointing at his Bieber cut.

"It's completely understandable." Kurt nods eagerly._ 'I wonder if it takes as long to mess up...'_

Rachel snorts quietly, or so she thinks, because Quinn immediately snaps her gaze to her. _'Oh shit Rachel has...'_ her thought trails off as she _really _sees the brunette, _'...come. Jesus Christ, is this the real life?'_

Quinn's skin turns a shade darker under her light makeup, her chest raising with a heavy breath and her eyes blazing. No one but Rachel seems to realize; the rest of the Club seems too engrossed in their current conversation.

_'Control. Yourself. Fabray. You're here with Sam. Your date. A boy. And you don't care how freakingly hot Rachel Berry's looking or how ridiculously short her dress is or how intensely she's looking your way and you most definitely don't care how much you just want to jump her bones right now.'_

Well, that was enlightening, Rachel thinks amused in the midst of her heated staring. If she's capable of getting the girl alone, she's pretty sure she'll get some progress.

_'I have to avoid her at all costs.'_

"Just my luck," Rachel mumbles to herself.

"Let's dance." Quinn grabs Sam by the arm and drags him again to the dance floor. Santana by Rachel's side, folds her arms and puts a face.

"What crawled up her ass and died?"

"She's avoiding me."

"No shit, Sherlock." She rolls her eyes._ 'I don't need super powers to see that.'_

"Why is Q avoiding Rach? She looks super cute tonight. I'd have sex with her."

"Exaclty, B."

Brittany tilts her head confused.

"Precisely because of that; Quinn doesn't want to be around me in case she accidentally acts on her growing attraction."

"Oh." The blonde smiles deviously. _'We can fix that.'_

She grabs the two girls by the hand and makes her way through the crowd to get where the couple is dancing. "Hi guys!"

"B." Quinn looks surprised that her friends have found her so soon. "Hey S and..." she takes a deep breath before rapidly facing the petite girl, "Berry."

"Guys, this party is awesome!" Sam gushes. "We didn't have this at my old school."

'_Where did he go? Special school for Bieber-like losers?' _Rachel nudges the Latina scolding. _'What? He doesn't even hear me!'_

"Sam, you have pretty blonde hair..." Brittany starts running her fingers through his hair and the boy winces, quickly but gently removing the girls hands from his head and trying to fix what she messed up.

"Uh, thanks."

_'He's such a flaming gay.' _Rachel turns to Santana in a heartbeat, her eyes wide with surprise._ 'Oh don't give me that, you know he is.'_

_'Is it okay? Shit, I hope it still looks okay. Maybe I should go to the bathroom to check it out,_' the boy thinks, still touching up his hair.

After that, the brunette doesn't have any argument to refute Santana's statement.

"Oh, I know! Why don't we go get some drinks for our dates?"

"Uh..." Sam looks unsure between Santana and Rachel.

"Come on, S. Let's get Rach something to drink. You too, Sam." Once again, the boy finds himself being dragged around before he can even let a word in.

_'What? No! Come back here!'_ Quinn thinks panicking. The blonde looks everywhere but at her companion, looking for a way to escape. Seconds tick by and the awkward tension grows between them. Right when Rachel is about to blurt out some stupid fact about the decoration of the gym, Quinn voice interrupts her.

_'Shit. Okay, small talk Fabray. You can do this.' _"So, you came as S and B's date?"

"Not really. Britt is just a little bit confused, you know how she is," Rachel explains. "I wasn't going to come, but she convinced me- and Santana for that matter- to come with them. While we know these two are clearly more than friends, that's what we came as tonight: friends."

"So, now you three are _friends_?" _'How did that even happen?'_

"Well, it all started when you asked them to look after me and then it just kind of progressed..." the brunette trails off as she realizes her mistake.

_'Oh my God, they told her! They are so dead!' _Quinn thinks, her eyes wide like sausages. "What are you talking about, Berry?"

"I- I- I mean... I saw you once talking with them and then... they _never_ said anything to me, I promise, I just kinda guessed..."

"Look Berry, I don't know what your hopeful, delusional, over-active mind has come up with, but I did not do such thing," Quinn spats angrily._ 'Get out of here, Fabray. Now.'_

"Quinn I'm-" But Quinn has already left. "Shit."

Way to go, she scolds herself. Now that she had the perfect opportunity to get a step closer to the distant girl, she messed it up. Never in her life has Rachel hated her big mouth as much as now.

"Hey, where's Quinn?" Sam appears suddenly holding two cups, followed by Santana and Britt.

"She needed to... uhm, bathroom."

"Oh, okay." He just smiles and continues enjoying her first high school ball ever.

"Here." Santana hands her a cup full of fruity liquid and she just shakes her head, refusing it sadly. The Latina frowns. _'What the fuck really happened here?'_

Rachel shakes her head again.

It's painfully obvious, Quinn is ashamed of even caring for her and that, Rachel has to admit, hurts like hell. She wonders how long this has been happening. How long has the blonde been avoiding her to deny her feelings and not because she hates her? Rachel wonders if it has been like this since the beginning. How hard must that be? The brunette actually pities Quinn. Being so repressed must be unhealthy, and not only for her; Quinn has been bullying her since middle school and why? Perhaps because she felt attracted to a girl, who happened to be a loser. Well, there was no need to antagonize her, she could have just left her alone and watch her from afar.

Rachel is musing all this in the middle on the dance floor when Santana nudges her.

_'What are you doing still here?'_ Rachel looks confused. _'Go find her, moron!'_

The diva nods, then shakes her head. "But I don't know where she is," she whispers.

Santana sighs exasperated. _'Try the second floor bathroom. The one next to the vending machine.'_

"Thank you, Santana."

'_Yeah, don't mention it. And I mean it; don't even dare.'_

…

'..._no need to panic. You should have kept your cool though and not bolt out like some kind of scared animal, but it's okay, it's okay... you can fix this. She just has to believe that you left because you were really annoyed by her presence. Easy. You've been doing this since always. It's a piece of cake.' _Quinn thoughts come from behind the closed door of the bathroom where Rachel has been standing the last five minutes. Finally and when the internal freak out of the blonde seems to have calmed down a little, she enters the bathroom.

Quinn is leaning on the sink, her head bent down and her eyes tightly shut.

"Quinn?" She asks mostly to announce her presence. She can literally see Quinn's muscles tensing.

_'Are you fucking kidding me? I must be hearing things.'_

"Quinn, can we talk?"

_'Oh for the love of God, she's here.' _The blonde turns slowly to the petite girl, a sneer plastered on her beautiful face. "We have nothing to talk about, Berry."

"I think we do." Rachel walks closer to the girl, her eyes never leaving the hazel ones.

"Okay, let's talk about how you followed me to the bathroom. Stalker much?" Quinn tries to stay calm as the brunette invades her personal space._ 'Why the fuck is she so close? Okay, I'm not ready for this. It's not a piece of cake. Now get out of here.'_

But when she side-steps Rachel, she finds the girl blocking her path once again._ 'Damn it. She's fast.'_

"Move out of my way, Man-Hands." Rachel actually flinches at the name. It's been a long time after all. _'Resorting to name-calling, Fabray? Tsk, tsk, you promised yourself, never again.'_

"Look Quinn, I know you don't hate me, so drop the act," Rachel says confidently.

"Yeah? How would you know?" She scoffs.

"Well for starters, you asked Britt and Santana to make sure I was alright a few weeks ago."

"I told you, I did not do such-"

"Stop denying it, Quinn!" Rachel sighs frustrated. "Why are you so worried about caring about me? I think it was really sweet, and although you could have done it yourself, you showed what a great person you are under that bitchy facade."

"I'm not-"

"And why are you so against us being friends?" The brunette throws her hands in the air exasperated. She's hardly containing herself and what comes out of her mouth, but she knows she has to be careful not to let slip how she knows Quinn likes her. "We are together in Glee Club, you're not ordering slushies at me anymore, you don't even call me names- well apart from that one a few minutes ago- and you clearly care about my well-being, so I'm going to ask this again, why do you keep rejecting my friendship offer?"

'_Because if we become friends, I'll probably want more.' _Quinn sighs defeated. "We wouldn't work as friends, Berry, let it go."

"Okay," Rachel steps even closer to the blonde, looking up at her through dark eye-lashes and wishing Quinn could read her mind like she can, "what would we work as then?"

'_What is she saying? Why is she so close? Oh, is that her_ p_erfume? Holy shit, she smells amazing. What is she looking at? Is she- is she staring at my lips? No, she can't be. She's waiting for you to say something, moron!' _"I- I don't know." _'Smooth, Frabray, real smooth.'_

"Let's try it, Quinn, please," Rachel pleads, her eyes indeed, jumping from Quinn's to the girl's lips. "Let's try being friends and... if it doesn't work..." Rachel wets her lips unconsciously, the proximity to the blonde affecting her like a thousand suns. "We can try something else."

Quinn follows intently the path of Rachel's tongue and holds her breath. _'What is this girl doing to you?'_

"What do you say?"

"I- I-" Quinn stammers. She walks back, putting a few feet between them and feeling the air coming back to her lungs, the room suddenly doubling her size. "I'll think about it."

"Great." Rachel, who's mind seems to have cleared a bit with the added distance too, nods happily. "I expect the answer by Monday, but if you come to a conclusion sooner, I believe you have my number, right?"

_'Since the beginning of Freshman Year. Not that I ever used it, apart from staring at it and memorizing it.' _"Yeah, I think I do from... some Glee stuff or other..."

"Great." The brunette realizes she's repeating herself and decides it's time to go. "So, we should go back. They are probably worried that we killed each other or something."

"Yeah you go ahead, I'll follow in a minute."

"Okay. Later Quinn."

"Later uhm... Berry."

When Rachel closes the door behind her, she stays standing at the door enough to hear Quinn's next thought._ 'Dammit, you almost called her Rachel again!'_

She walks back to the party with a smile playing on her lips.

Yeah, she's definitely getting somewhere.

* * *

**Reviews, opinions and criticism are very appreciated :)**


	5. Chapter 5

*peeks inside*

*throws chapter*

*hopes they won't kill her for the long wait*

**But seriously, here it is. Sorry for the wait, life keeps getting in the way. -_-**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or The Dark Knight. I don't own Rudy the Duck either, my girlfriend does. Heck, I own nothing.**

* * *

_"Let's try it, Quinn, please," Rachel pleads, her eyes indeed, jumping from Quinn's to the girl's lips. "Let's try being friends and... if it doesn't work..."_

_Rachel wets her lips unconsciously, the proximity to the blonde affecting her like a thousand suns. "We can try something else."_

_Quinn follows intently the path of Rachel's tongue and holds her breath. _'What is this girl doing to you?'

_"What do you say?"_

_"I- I-" Quinn stammers. She walks back, putting a few feet between them and feeling the air coming back to her lungs, the room suddenly doubling her size. "I'll think about it."_

_"Great." Rachel, who's mind seems to have cleared a bit with the added distance too, nods happily. "I expect the answer by Monday, but if you come to a conclusion sooner, I believe you have my number, right?"_

'Since the beginning of Freshman Year. Not that I ever used it, apart from staring at it and memorizing it.' "Yeah, I think I do from... some Glee stuff or other..."

_"Great." The brunette realizes she's repeating herself and decides it's time to go. "So, we should go back. They are probably worried that we killed each other or something."_

_"Yeah you go ahead, I'll follow in a minute."_

_"Okay. Later Quinn."_

_"Later uhm... Berry."_

_When Rachel closes the door behind her, she stays standing at the door enough to hear Quinn's next thought. _'Dammit, you almost called her Rachel again!'

_She walks back to the party with a smile playing on her lips._

_Yeah, she's definitely getting somewhere._

**...**

Rachel sits stiffly in Brittany's basement couch with her duffel bag at her feet. She glances around nervously as the hostess arranges their drinks and junk food- a good part of which she won't be able to eat- on the coffee table. Santana is looking through her collection of DVDs for a suitable option while Quinn is still in the bathroom where she disappeared when Rachel arrived, her thoughts a jumble of 'you can do this', 'I wonder in what she sleeps in' and 'oh God I need some water'.

Rachel breathes through her nose trying in vain to calm her nerves. Since she got to the Pierce residence, she has been wondering the same thing: how did she end up in a sleepover with the most popular girls in McKinley that Friday night? She mentally replays that week's events.

A week earlier:

Rachel waited.

She waited all Saturday and she waited all Sunday and the call never came. But she wasn't desperately waiting, not really. It's not like she was almost every minute attached to her bedazzled phone since Homecoming or pacing around her room thinking of possible conversation lines and never letting the shiny device out of sight. Not at all.

It was to be expected actually. Did she really think Quinn would call her to answer that simple question?

_Do you want to be my friend?_

The blonde would probably approach her on Monday to give her a "Not gonna happen, Berry" or even worse, completely ignore her and her request. Rachel felt like a fool for even hoping Quinn would swallow her pride and call her. She should have known better by now. Quinn was going to do anything in her power to forget that the bathroom encounter ever happened and avoid her at all costs.

Rachel fell on the bed with a sigh, her phone slipping from her hand and to the mattress. She let her mind wander to the events of that night; how Quinn had frozen when she saw her, how her thoughts revealed her true feeling towards her once again, how Britt and Santana helped her corner her, just to have her fly from the gym when she blurted out that she knew Quinn was worried about her. Their conversation in the bathroom- Rachel frowned at the thought that they always seem to meet in bathrooms- and that _moment_ they had just before Quinn bolted up.

It was so intense. Nothing she had ever felt with Finn or Jesse or even Puck and the guy _was_ intense. Rachel decided to keep that moment to herself, for fear that Santana or Brittany would decide to quicken the pace of her plan. Luckily for her, the two Cheerios were too wrapped in each other on the dance floor when she came back, so Rachel spent the rest of the evening dancing with the rest of the Glee Club members and catching jealous glances from Quinn every time she danced with Puck or Mike. Also luckily for her, it looked like Finn never attended the ball.

All in all, her first High School Ball experience wasn't so bad. Rachel's "wait-for-her-to-call-the-day-after" experience however... it was being awful.

She shook her head and jumped off the bed, mentally scolding herself for depending so much on someone else's actions. She was Rachel Barbra Berry and she was better than this. She wasn't going to mope around, wishing Quinn would stop being stupid and call her. No, if the blonde wanted to miss out on her fiercely loyal friendship then that was her loss.

With a "hmph" and a curt nod, Rachel made her way to her bathroom to start her nightly routine. She had barely reached for her tooth brush when a loud sound came from her bedroom.

Rachel froze for a second, her gaze fixed on herself in the mirror, then at an inhuman speed she run to her bedroom, knocking off her chair and tripping with her own feet. She threw herself on the bed and stared at her phone with so much intensity she was surprised it didn't disintegrate.

_Calling:_

_Quinn Fabray_

All weekend she had been waiting for this and now Rachel couldn't do anything but stare and let the music fill her ears. She stood and paced her room, clutching her phone to her chest and feeling the vibrations.

With a couple deep breaths, she finally picked up.

"R-Rachel Berry's phone."

"Berry?" Quinn's voice was like heaven's music to her ears. Her knees wobbled a little.

"Yes?"

"It's Quinn."

Oh she knew. "I know."

"Oh, well you were all silent for a minute there." Was she?

"Oh. Sorry."

"Yeah, look I'm... sorry I couldn't get to you earlier this weekend. There's a competition in two weeks and Coach has us practicing like crazy." Quinn sighed tiredly. "Then mom wanted to have some mother-daughter bonding time, so... yeah."

"It's perfectly understandable. I wasn't really _waiting_ for your call- I mean I was! I mean, you said that _maybe_ you'd call so it's only natural that I had some small percentage of hope- well not _hope, _more like expectations... of receiving... your call," Rachel trailed off.

"Right." Quinn's short answer made the brunette realize the awful truth; over the phone, Rachel _couldn't_ hear what Quinn was thinking. She lost her advantage, her secret weapon. Rachel felt a panic attack building; she hadn't been this vulnerable with the blonde in a long time.

Be cool, remember all you know about her_, _she reminded herself.

"So, how's- how was your weekend?" Quinn asked and Rachel let out a long breath.

"Good. Saturday, I was busy with my vocal classes and MySpace videos. I also helped my Dad prepare a new vegan dish that my Daddy refused to eat, claiming that it looked like someone mixed the leaves from the backyard with tomato sauce. I told him that it wasn't our fault that it looked so inconsistent, for it was our first time cooking it and Dad swore that it'd be the last."

On the other side of the phone, Quinn started laughing. Rachel blushed at her rambling but smiled nonetheless at the fact that she made Quinn laugh.

_"Right," _she said as the giggling stopped_. _"And today?"

"Uhm..." The answer would have been 'pacing around and looking at the phone'. "I had a lazy day."

"Yeah, those are my favorites."

When the line fell silent, Rachel knew they couldn't keep stalling the point of the call.

"Quinn, have you considered my friendship offer yet?" Rachel winced at her bluntness. Well, at least it was out there now.

"I- yeah. That's why I called."

"So?"

"I... guess we could try."

"Really?" Rachel asked hopefully.

"Yeah, whatever. But it's not like- this doesn't mean we are best friends or even- or even friends at all, Berry. It means we are going to... see if we can not kill each other." The blonde's voice was neutral; Rachel couldn't read her in any way.

"Okay." Rachel nodded jumping a little on the balls of her feet. She could barely contain her excitement; it was ridiculous. "I hope you know what this means."

"Uh... no?"

"No more cold glares, insults, name-calling, teasing- unless it's good-natured- ordering slushies at me or any of those unpleasant habits you used to have."

"Hold on. It's been a long time since I did any of those. Apart form the cold glare, that comes naturally."

"Well, you'll have to try harder. Oh and you have to stop avoiding my presence too."

Rachel swore she heard Quinn choke. "I- wha- how- what?"

"Good night, Quinn." Rachel finished with a smirk.

...

On Monday, it wasn't until after her first class that Rachel saw the three Cheerios strutting down the halls. Quinn in the middle, hands on her hips and Santana and Britt at her sides, the first looking as smug as ever and the second surprisingly serious.

They stopped at her locker and Quinn's resolve faltered for a second. _'C'mon Fabray, baby steps.'_

"Rachel."

"Hi, Quinn," she answered with her hundred watt smile.

Santana looked quite puzzled for a second. _'Did she just call you Rachel?'_ She nodded her head in Rachel's direction as a greeting. Brittany stood a few feet apart and kept looking at the floor, her brow furrowed.

"I guess I should inform you two that Quinn has,_ finally _and very wisely_,_ accepted my friendship offer. That means she's willing to see past our previous confrontations and start treating me kindly. Is that right, Quinn?"

"Was that really necessary, Berry?" Quinn asked, embarrassed.

"Why, yes Quinn. Santana and Brittany are friends of both of us, they deserve to know the new development of our relationship."

_'What if we had a relationship...?'_ Quinn shook her head. _'Wrong train of thought, Fabray.'_

"Yeah, well, finally, congratulations. Now can we please get to class? I really need to sit down," Santana groaned, earning a questioning glance from Rachel. "We have a Cheerios competition in two weeks and Sylvester is completely out of her mind. Practice this morning was hell."

"Oh, yes. Quinn told me about this competition." Rachel threw a small smile in her direction and the blonde averted her gaze.

"She did now?" Santana mumbled surprised. She smirked deviously. "How interesting."

"Anyways, we better get going." Quinn grabbed Santana's arm with a light blush and pulled her down the hall, throwing back a short "Later, Rachel."

Brittany, who shared her next class with Rachel, stood silently in her place. She approached the pouting girl carefully.

"Britt, are you feeling alright?"

Brittany nodded, then shook her head, then shrugged. _'Santana...'_

"What did she do?" Rachel asked concerned.

Brittany shrugged again. "I can't be mad, you know?"

"What? What do you mean?"

_'She's sleeping with Puck again,'_ the blonde thought fleetly. "I can't be jealous or mad, 'cause we are not dating. I don't know how to make it stop."

"Make what stop?"

_'It hurts,'_ Britt thought shaking her head. "I'm confused."

Rachel sighed. She pulled the sad girl to her and squeezed her as hard as she could. Something was definitely not right with their relationship.

"We'll fix it, okay?" Brittany nodded into the embrace. "C'mon let's go to class."

Rachel didn't see much of the trio through all of the rest of the week.

Quinn kept her part of the deal and didn't purposely avoid her, but when they weren't in Glee, in class or on Cheerios practice, they were called to attend Sue Sylvester pep talks. However, Rachel still found little moments where she could reinforce her new-found friendship with the blonde.

It was little things like a fleeting "hello," a quick glance during classes, a sympathetic smile when she was obviously beat by Sue's tortures. When Thursday came and Quinn sat next to her in Math, with a soft "hey," Rachel had to fight the urge to clap and jump on her seat.

_'I'd kill for some water.'_ Quinn thought halfway into the lecture. _'I'm so thirsty.'_

Rachel, quickly and without thinking, grabbed her bottle from her bag and offered it to her.

"How did you...?"

Shit.

"Oh, I- I'm a little psychic you know? Nothing like Carrie though," she quickly added, "I just saw it on your face."

Quinn smiled amused. "Psychic, right." She drank a good half of the bottle. "You're such a nerd."

Rachel gasped. "I'm most definitely not."

Quinn smirked, raising her eyebrow. "Oh, you are. A cute nerd though."

Rachel did a double take.

The blonde turned around and stared at the teacher, her face flushed._ 'I did not just say that out loud.'_ "Anyways," she coughed, "thanks for the water."

"You're welcome," Rachel answered softly.

With the exciting thought that Quinn Fabray called her cute- not in her mind, but out loud, Rachel walked in a daze the rest of the day, failing to notice the weird way Santana was acting.

She kept throwing knowing smirks Rachel's way and stood more silently than usual. Her brow was always furrowed but the corners of her lips were tugging upwards and her gaze was lost in space. In fact, if Quinn would have paid more attention to her than to the back of Rachel's head, she would have noticed what she had learned over the years: Santana Lopez was plotting.

"Sleepover at Britt's house tonight, Short Stack."

"I thought we were over childish name-calling, Santana." Rachel sighed as she retrieved her books from her locker. She turned to the Cheerios to see that Quinn was nowhere in sight and Brittany was playing with a Tamagotchi a few feet away, with her perma-pout in place.

"Where's the fun in that?" She asked seriously. "Anyway, B and I are going straight to her house after Glee. You can go to your place and grab your stuff, but don't be late or there won't be booze for you."

Rachel's eyebrows raised to her hairline. "What kind of sleepover is this?"

Santana smirked evilly, much like she has been all week. The mind reader fixed her gaze on her, trying to hear what the girl was scheming. Santana squinted her eyes in response.

_'I'm blue da ba dee da ba daa, da ba dee da ba daa, da ba dee da ba daa...'_

"What?" Rachel asked confused. Santana laughed, nodding to herself.

"I can't believe that worked." She turned to the blonde to share her new discovery but she went completely ignored. With a sigh and a head shake she turned to leave. "Later, Berry."

**...**

Rachel realizes now why so much secrecy about this sleepover. The idea that she's going to be drinking and sleeping in the same room as the blonde still hasn't sunk in because she's pretty sure that when it does, she's going to freak out a little. What if she says something stupid and Quinn decides she's not worth the trouble? What if spending time with the blonde means that Quinn will know her more deeply, resulting in the realization that they actually have nothing in common thus making her crush on the diva fade away? Or worse, what if Quinn finds out about her secret?

Rachel curls a lock of hair behind her ear delicately before cleaning her throat.

"Is there anything I can help with?"

"Yeah, no. We got it covered."

"I'm done and it's San's turn to pick the movie, so it's okay," Brittany assures, then glances at the pink bag next to her. "You should put that with our stuff though. It's in my room."

"Oh, sure. Which one is your room?"

"The one with the white door."

"Uhm..." Rachel glances at Santana questioningly.

_'Upstairs. Second to the left.'_

"Right." Smiling lightly at Britt, she shoulders her bag- which is bigger than her- and makes her way upstairs.

Brittany has a nice house. There are pictures of gorgeous blondes with blue eyes all over the walls who, she guesses, must be the Pierce family. It's decorated in pastel colors and it screams friendliness.

"Oh."

Rachel turns her eyes from the picture of an 11-year-old Brittany dressed in a tutu at the top of the stairs, to a frozen Quinn.

_'What is she doing up here?' _"What are you doing up here?"

Rachel grabs the strap of her bag, showing it to the blonde awkwardly. Under the piercing eyes of Quinn, she really feels like she got caught doing something wrong. When Brittany opened the door before and she saw Quinn talking quietly with Santana, in what looked to be a heated discussion, she felt completely out of place, like she was somehow invading some special ritual for the three girls. And now, she just got caught wandering around the house and staring at the pictures. Rachel hopes Quinn doesn't think she's being nosy.

Hazel eyes scan the bag Rachel's carrying._ 'How can she even carry that? It looks bigger than her.'_ She grabs the bag from Rachel, who looks at her questioningly, so Quinn gives her a tight smile. "Don't want you to go from pint size to shot size under the weight."

She turns and enters Brittany's room as Rachel huffs, her hands planted at her hips. "What's with you people lately? I'm not that short!"

...

"What the hell, S?" Quinn asks just as the opening credits of the movie roll down. The blonde is sitting next to Santana on the small couch while Rachel sits on the armchair, Brittany at her feet leaning back on her legs.

"What?" The girl barks.

"The Dark Knight? Seriously?"

"This movie is fucking genius, Fabray! Shut up." Santana snatches the bowl of popcorn from Quinn's lap forcefully and shoves a good handful in her mouth.

"Hold on, S. You got something on your face." Quinn points her finger at the Latina frowning. Santana wipes her face quickly with her sleeve. "Oh, nevermind. It was just your _nerd_ showing."

Santana gives her the finger. "You don't wanna play that game, Q. Or should I say Princess Leia?"

_'Oh my God, I hope she didn't get that.'_ Quinn's eyes widen comically, she throws a glance at Rachel's way before pointing a threatening finger at her friend. "You wouldn't."

"Wanna try me?" She smirks.

"I swear to God, S-"

"Will you two shut up?" Brittany asks as sternly as the sweet girl can manage. Quinn and Santana keep glaring at each other and the girl presses the pause button and stands, sighing. "You are seriously boring, always the same banter back and forth." The two cheerleaders drop their gaze in shame. "Trade places."

"What?" They both ask.

"I really want to watch the movie and you won't shut up if you are next to each other, so Q will sit in my place and I'll sit with Santana." She nods to herself and none of the girls have the courage to contradict her.

Quinn stands and stops in front of the petite diva while Brittany sits on the couch as far from Santana as she can and ignoring her apologetic look. Rachel gives the blonde a tentative smile, not sure if Quinn is going to be too comfortable with the new distribution. She smiles back awkwardly and sits indian style on the blanket Brittany spread on the floor, leaning her elbows on her legs as if not to touch the girl in any possible way._ 'If there is something I've learned it's that the proximity to Rachel is directly proportional to the possibility of making a fool of myself.'_

"Now be quiet. I want to know how the clowns escaped from the circus." Brittany resumes the movie as the other girls give her a weird look.

"Uhm, B, those are thieves with masks," Santana explains.

Brittany purses her lips, not even sparing a glance in the Latina's direction who frowns sadly and turns her attention back to the screen.

As the story of the movie develops, Quinn grows restless, the position she adopted not very comfortable after a while and her back, which still suffers from her pregnancy, starts hurting.

_'Stupid kinks, shit-'_ She stretches, popping her back with a quiet groan. _'This movie's so long.'_

"Quinn." Rachel calls quietly.

The blonde turns her head with a wince. _'God this position is awful.'_

"You should lean back. It's not good for your muscles to be forced that way, you could hurt them making it difficult to work with the Cheerios or even perform for Glee." It's not like she'd like to feel the blonde against her, not at all. Quinn is her friend and friends take care of each other.

"I don't want to bother you Berry, I'm fine."

"Nonsense." Rachel reaches for Quinn's shoulders, pulling her back to her. The blonde melts into her legs automatically, her head falling lightly into her lap with a satisfied sigh. "Better?"

"Yeah."

"Good." Rachel turns her attention back to the movie with her hands still on Quinn's shoulders.

_'I'd kill for a massage. Oh God I could never ask her that, I'd die of embarrassment.'_ Quinn blushes at the thought.

Rachel bites her lips and waits a non-suspicious amount of time to start kneading gently the flesh underneath her hands. Almost immediately, Quinn's mind starts responding.

_'She's... she's massaging my neck? Jesus Christ, that feels so good. How __did she even know- oh my God, her hands are heaven._' She barely catches herself before letting out a quiet moan.

Rachel smirks to herself and continues her task more eagerly for the rest of the movie. Her thumbs push gently at Quinn's muscles, brushing up and down her nape and the sides of her neck until the blonde's skin is warm from the friction.

When the final credits roll, Quinn's head is completely thrown back on Rachel's lap. Somewhere near the end, the brunette stopped massaging and started playing with Quinn's golden locks, amazed at their silky touch.

If someone were to ask the girls about the movie they would have gone completely blank. None of them was in the least interested in what was going on on the screen; Quinn fixated on the feel of small, non-manly hands on her hair and Rachel on the praises Quinn didn't dare to voice.

"I don't get it," Brittany announces, breaking the girls out of their trance, "why was the Joker smiling all the time?"

The other three look at each other blankly. Suddenly Santana stands. "How about we change into our pajamas and start the party?"

That seems to catch the blonde's attention and divert it away from the twisted character from the movie.

...

"Santana, can I talk to you for a second?"

The Latina sighs as she ties her hair in a loose pony tail in front of the bathroom mirror. She glances at Rachel who's behind her and nods.

"I was wondering... how did you manage to convince Quinn to come knowing that I'll be here?" She shifts her weight from one leg to the other. "I mean, she hasn't been avoiding me per se, but she's still a little uncomfortable in close proximity with me, or so I've gathered."

Santana smirks. "I didn't."

"You didn't what?"

"Convince her. She didn't know you were going to come, neither did you about her."

"Yes. I know about your new confusing tactic. 'I'm blue'? Seriously, Santana?"

"What? It's catchy."

Rachel rolls her eyes. "So, you lied to her?"

"No, I just omitted part of the truth. And don't bother scolding me for it, she already did right before you came, when B asked where you were."

"What did she say?" Rachel asks curious.

"The usual; why would we invite you, why didn't anyone tell her..." She rolls her eyes. "Like I didn't see her bolting to the bathroom to check her hair and make up just after you arrived. I swear that girl is so far into the closet, she might as well be prancing in fucking Narnia."

Rachel suppresses the urge to point out that if that is so, the Latina must be having tea with Aslan. "Are you sure she doesn't mind I'm here?"

"Are you serious now? You were practically molesting her through all the movie and she was fucking delighted. You can't be that dense, for sure."

"I- I was giving her a massage"

"Same thing," Santana says as she walks out of the bathroom.

...

There's complete silence in the basement as the girls come back, changed into their respective sleepwear. Well, silence for all but one girl.

_'I- I don't even think that is _considered_ pajamas. I mean, she might as well go naked! Wait, no. I so don't need that mental image.'_

_'Gosh, look at Q! She's so freaking obvious! I don't get how I didn't see it before. I bet she's making a mental list of ways to get into your pants, isn't she Berry?'_

_'Did I feed Rudy?'_

"So, what should we do now?" Rachel asks. She plays with the hem of her tank top self-consciously; she always slept in short shorts and a shirt and never thought some people might feel uncomfortable with the expanse of smooth, tan skin she was showing. But Santana's shorts are not very different from hers so she shrugs it off.

"I'll go get the booze." Santana walks out of the room.

"We could play Truth or Dare," Brittany chimes in, putting the Tamagotchi back into the pocket of her pink pajamas.

_'I don't think that's a very good idea.' _"Isn't there another game we can play?" Quinn asks uncomfortably.

"7 Minutes in Heaven," Brittany states calmly, making Quinn choke on her own spit.

"Yeah, no B, that won't work either."

"Q's right," Santana exclaims as she comes back with two bottles and four glasses. "No way in hell I'll take the risk of being stuck in a closet with Streisand for 7 minutes. She might want to practice scales." She shudders at the thought.

"Very funny, Santana. While a month ago I'd have felt offended by your insinuation that I don't think about anything but singing, now I can't help but find it both amusing and endearing that you're still trying to throw some insults at me from time to time. I have to say, I wouldn't have it any other way."

Santana blinks at her. "Ugh, Berry, don't say stuff like that. It's weird"

Rachel beams at the girl, missing the jealous daggers Quinn is throwing. "Anyways. What are we going to do?"

"How about karaoke?" Rachel asks, perking up suddenly.

"No way," Quinn answers, shaking her head vehemently. Santana and Brittany agree and Rachel deflates a little. _'Aw, she looks like we just kicked her puppy.'_ "Some other time, 'kay?" Quinn flashes her her charming smile and the brunette can't remember why she was pouting in the first place.

"What about Never Have I Ever?"

"Nice B. Finally a good idea." The Latina goes ignored by her friend again.

"We could play that." Quinn nods and Rachel shrugs. "Settled then."

The girls sit on the floor, Quinn and Rachel leaning back on the armchair, Britt on the couch next to them and Santana on the coffee table at her left. The last places a glass in front of each girl and fills it with one part vodka, three parts cranberry juice. Rachel eyes it carefully.

"It's very sweet. You won't notice the alcohol," Quinn comments watching her.

"You do this very often?" Rachel asks as she sees how expertly the Latina fills their glasses.

"Sometimes. It's only the second one this year though."

"We used to do this every weekend since we were in middle school," Britt adds.

"Not the alcohol! The sleepovers," Quinn clarifies. _'God, she's going to think I'm an alcoholic.'_

Rachel chuckles.

"Yeah, but then you tagged along and we kinda abandoned Quinn," Santana says without thinking.

Rachel looks at the blonde apologetically. She didn't realize how much time she took from the two girls while she was trying to control her power. Quinn gives a half shrug like it's not big deal.

"But now you're friends too and we can all do stuff together." Brittany claps her hands and Santana gives the blonde the smile reserved only for her. Britt, in her excitement, smiles back to her.

_'God, I missed that,'_ Santana thinks as she cherishes the little moment. She glances up to find Rachel looking at her with seriousness. _'Get the fuck out!'_ Rachel quickly looks away.

"Who starts?" Quinn asks finally.

"I'll start," Santana says, still angry at the invasion of privacy. "Never have I ever invaded someone's privacy and taken advantage of it."

Quinn frowns and Britt ponders if she ever did as Rachel sips on her drink, not daring to look at Santana in the eye.

"B, your turn," Quinn says.

"Okay. Never have I ever..." Brittany frowns. She glances at Santana, then frowns some more. "Slept with someone I don't really like."

This time, both Quinn and Santana drink. The first with a firm nod, the second looking guilty as hell.

"Rach," Brittany calls.

"Uhm, I'm not... really good with this but, never have I ever..." she starts, "watched porn."

"Duh." Santana drinks, followed by Brittany and Quinn.

"You have?" She can't help but ask Quinn, surprised. The blonde blushes profusely.

"Just once, okay?" _'And just because I was curious to know how two girls do it. Not that I'd need that information. I was just curious.'_

"Sure, Quinn. Nothing to be ashamed of." Rachel giggles as the blush darkens. "Your turn, by the way."

"Okay, never have I ever been caught having sex." She smiles deviously as Brittany drinks and Santana glares at her. "Hey, I told you to wait 'till I was gone, didn't I?"

"You'll see, Fabray."

"Bring it."

"Oh I will-"

"You two." Brittany snaps her fingers silencing them immediately. "Rach, you've never been caught?"

Rachel shifts uncomfortably. "I- I've never had sex, Britt."

"Not with Finn?"

Rachel shakes her head.

"Why?"

"He was..." she shrugs, "I never felt that sort of attraction for him. He was a good looking boy, a great male lead, but there wasn't any spark. He was pretty bad at kissing too."

Quinn chuckles. "No kidding."

"Well, good. I never liked how he treated you." Brittany frowns. "Like you were less than him or something."

"Yeah, he was a douche," Santana adds and Quinn agrees.

Rachel ducks her head with a light blush. "Thanks guys."

"Anyway, my turn." The Latina glares at Quinn. "Never have I ever lied to myself about my feelings for someone."

Quinn looks at Rachel out of the corner of her eye. The brunette sips discreetly from her glass and she grabs hers firmly but before drinking says, "Like hell you haven't, S."

Santana squints her eyes at her and mutters something that sounds suspiciously like 'backfire'.

The girls keep playing for an hour. Round after round, the questions grow in difficulty. They start feeling lightheaded after the second glass and by the fourth their words are slurred and everything is ridiculously funny.

"Okay, okay, I have a good one," Rachel slurs. "Never have I ever had a sex dream-" Santana and Brittany already reach for their glasses, "wait, wait, there's more. _About _someone in Glee."

The girls look at each other before drinking.

_'If you knew. The things I do to you... legs, skin, so much skin... in my dreams. Every night. Oh God, Rachel everywhere, my hands, my mouth...'_ Quinn watches Rachel intently as she thinks this, her hand picking up the glass on its own accord and bringing it to her lips.

Rachel coughs, her cheeks feeling like they're on fire. Her whole body, come to think of it. "Maybe we should take a little break. I could use some fresh air."

"I need to pee." Brittany jumps and runs to the bathroom.

Rachel stands- not as easily as she thought- and makes her way upstairs and to the back yard. It's one of those chilly nights when the Ohio sky is clear and the light coming from the stars and the moon is enough to see around. She stands in the dark, not really feeling the change in temperature and breathes deeply as her body swings a little under the alcoholic daze.

Taking a moment to recall everything that transpired today, she feels a little overwhelmed. Who would have thought that she'd be in a room with the three Cheerios and not feel threatened or scared to mess up? It's liberating to actually be herself around someone and be accepted for who she is. Having friends feels really good. And Rachel knows she could be mad at Santana for tricking her and Quinn into this, because it could have gone very wrong- it could have jeopardized their tentative friendship- but she's actually grateful. Even if it's only the result of the alcohol, she feels the blonde is finally getting comfortable around her and she can only hope it will progress from here.

Suddenly the sound of steps catch her attention.

_'What a jerk. I'm just trying to help and she just tells me to mind my own business.' _The door to the house open and closes. "Hey."

She turns and smiles to Quinn. "Hi."

She stops next to her and looks at the point in space Rachel's been staring at. "It's a little frustrating, isn't it?"

"What is?" Rachel asks, curiously, turning to the girl and watching her golden locks dance with the breeze.

"B and S. Well Santana, mostly. I mean they- God, she is so- stupid," Quinn slurs. "Britt has been ignoring her all week to- to- to punish her and S doesn't even know why, 'cause she's... blind or something!"

"Well," Rachel cocks her head at the blonde, "s-sometimes it's a bit hard to admit that we feel something that we- we never expected to feel."

The blonde swallows nervously. _'That rings some bells.'_

Rachel smiles easily to calm Quinn. She doesn't want to push her, mostly because she shouldn't be _aware_ of how similar Quinn's case is and the blonde doesn't know she knows, which makes her feel awful and powerful at the same time. It's a very contradictory feeling.

It seems to work just fine, because Quinn's next thought is, _'Woah, her eyes are like pools of chocolate.'_ Rachel giggles and Quinn follows her, not aware of the reason. They keep staring at each other for a few seconds and when Rachel's eyes get tired of roaming all over her face and not finding a single flaw, Quinn speaks again.

"It's time Santana accepts it." She nods to herself.

"She will." Rachel looks at her pointedly. "When she feels ready." She reaches out and grabs Quinn's forearm, squeezing lightly. "I'm going back. You should too. While we may not feel the cold because of the alcolo- alclo- alcoholic beverages in our systems, we could be very well freezing to death."

Quinn giggles again. "After you."

After they go back, none really feel like playing anymore. They put on some music, sing and dance drunkenly to the 80's songs Brittany's dad keeps on the shelves and slur their way into irrelevant conversations about anything and everything.

About two hours later, Britt starts dozing off on the armchair and they decide to wrap it up and go to sleep. The four girls take turns in the downstairs bathroom (not to wake Britt's parents upstairs), with only a mild confrontation between Rachel and Santana-and just because the Latina _really_ needs to use the bathroom. The sleeping arrangement, though, seems to be a problem.

"B-but B, why don't you just-"

"I'm fine here," Brittany answers stubbornly from her spot on the floor. She's already tucked in her sleeping bag and giving Rudy (her electronic duck) his last meal of the day. Santana, from the couch, looks at the other two pleadingly and Quinn just gives her a face as if to say, 'you asked for it'.

_'Berry, what did I do? I don't get it!'_ Santana thinks confused. Rachel shakes her head sadly.

"Britt, we've always slept on the couch together and it's been fine." The Latina is desperate, like Rachel has never seen her, so she busies herself with her sleeping bag to give her some space. Quinn, at her side, watches the exchange unamused, like she wants to smack Santana in the face with the reason why her blonde friend is upset. Rachel grabs her shoulder gently and turns her around.

"You have to leave them alone to fix their own issues," she whispers.

"I know, it's just-" _'They're both hurting and it kills me,' _"they're just being morons," Quinn says instead.

Rachel smiles softly. "You're a good friend, Quinn."

The blonde blushes but tries to hide it with an eye-roll. "Anyways, where are you going to sleep?"

"Uhm, on the floor, I guess?"

Quinn chuckles. "I mean _where _on the floor?"

"I'm not sure... why?"

_''Cause I want to sleep next to you.'_ "I... no reason." Quinn shrugs.

"Oh." Rachel bites her lip to keep from smiling. "Would you mind sleeping next to me? I mean, it's okay if you don't want to, but I'd feel more comfortable having someone near while I try to sleep on this strange floor."

Quinn's hazel eyes brighten at the request. _'I can't believe my luck.' _"Oh, sure, yeah. I mean, if you'd feel better then I guess- yeah."

Rachel beams at her and together they move the armchair a little to make some space for two people to fit on the floor between it and the couch. They spread the sleeping bags and slip inside them snugly, giggling at their own silliness.

"Just leave me alone Santana."

"B, please. Talk to me."

Rachel and Quinn glance at each other uncomfortably. They look at Santana kneeling next to Brittany's bag and talking to where her head must be under the cloth.

"What did I do?"

"Nothing, S. Go to sleep."

"But-"

"S." Quinn calls then nods to the couch. With a last longing glance, the Latina stands, shuts off the lights and drags herself to the couch where she disappears under a blanket.

Rachel turns to Quinn and watches the girl breathe deeply a couple times before facing her.

"Promise me something," Rachel whispers.

_'Anything' _"What?"

"I know our friendship is still young, but I feel like it would hurt me deeply if you were to act like Brittany. Promise me that, if you ever get mad at me for something, you'll talk to me about it."

Quinn smiles softly and moves a few inches closer to the brunette. "I promise."

* * *

**If I promise you BIG FABERRY HAPPENING next chapter will you have mercy? Please? I love you?**


	6. Chapter 6

**Special thanks to ohnice1 from Tumblr for being my dicctionary, beta and first aid specialist. Also thanks to those who review and leave encouraging words. To those who are pissed because each chapter takes too much... well, I'm sorry but I doubt that's going to change.**

**Oh, another thing. My tumblr got deleted by mistake so if any of you were following me, you'll have to do it again. For those who want to, it's iceonthewing .tumblr .com**

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

* * *

_"S." Quinn calls then nods to the couch. With a last longing glance, the Latina stands, shuts off the lights and drags herself to the couch where she disappears under a blanket._

_Rachel turns to Quinn and watches the girl breathe deeply a couple times before facing her._

_"Promise me something," Rachel whispers._

_'Anything' "What?"_

_"I know our friendship is still young, but I feel like it would hurt me deeply if you were to act like Brittany. Promise me that, if you ever get mad at me for something, you'll talk to me about it."_

_Quinn smiles softly and moves a few inches closer to the brunette. "I promise_."

...

Rachel Berry wakes up very soon for a Saturday; around the time she always does for her work out, because even though her elliptical has been untouched for more than a month now, that is a habit she can't get rid of.

She blinks sleepily, frowning a little before finally locating herself. She recalls that she came to Britt's sleepover last night and they slept on the floor of her basement. Rachel stretches like a cat inside her bag and rolls her head to the side with a smile only to drop it when she finds the spot next to her completely empty. There isn't even a trace that Quinn slept next to her that night.

Her smile soon finds its way to her face again when she sits up and watches the pair of snuggling Cheerios on the couch. Santana is spooning Brittany from behind, her face nuzzling the blonde's neck and the adorable scene makes her forget about Quinn for a second, coming to the realization that even being mad at her, Brittany couldn't stand sleeping without the Latina.

The sound of the front door closing and light steps coming down the stairs brings her out of her thoughts. She watches over her shoulder a flustered and sweating Quinn jump the last two steps and throw a flashing smile at her. Rachel feels dazzled for a second, not only from the effect of those pearly whites so early in the morning but because Quinn is wearing red running shorts and a black sports bra and showing so much skin Rachel feels her mouth go dry.

"Hey. Morning," Quinn greets casually. "I didn't wake you, did I?"

"Uh?" Is all Rachel manages to say, her eyes running from Quinn's feet up her creamy thighs to her toned stomach and glistening, heaving chest.

"You okay?" Quinn asks concerned_. 'She looks hungry.'_

"Yeah. Fine." Rachel shakes her head. "No you didn't wake me," she answers with a smile. "Have you seen that?"

Quinn looks where she's pointing at Santana and Britt. "Yeah, I heard B tossing and turning until she sneaked out of her bag and into San's arms last night."

"They're so cute."

"And so stupid."

"That too."

They both chuckle.

"Anyway, I'm gonna grab a quick shower." Quinn turns but stops when she remembers something. "Oh, I saw Mr. and Mrs. Pierce and little Claire leaving this morning, something about a swimming competition, so there's no one home. We always have breakfast here so… you can go make yourself some coffee or whatever while you wait for those two to wake up." She nods towards the girls on the couch. "I'll be right back."

"Okay," Rachel calls as Quinn's legs disappear upstairs. She sighs longingly before shaking her head. "Might as well make breakfast."

…

"I smell coffee," Santana moans as walks into the kitchen rubbing the sleep off of her eyes.

"I smell pancakes!" Brittany chirps behind her.

Rachel chuckles as she flips a pancake and Santana serves herself a cup of coffee.

"Your sense of smell is impressive. Makes me wonder if you got electrocuted by an elliptical too." Brittany winces at the thought and Santana seemingly ignores her as she continues enjoying her coffee. The blonde watches over Rachel's shoulder as she serves the pancakes on a plate and she quickly starts putting on the table, a fleeting thought of _'Oh syrup!'_ running through her mind.

"Just wait until the smell of bacon wafts upstairs," Santana mumbles as Rachel flips the meat strips, scrunching her nose with disgust.

Just as the bacon starts looking toasted and crunchy, the sound of quick steps drumming down the stairs reaches their ears like an earthquake and a beat later, Quinn enters the kitchen. The running attire is nowhere in sight; instead, she wears a pair of tight jeans with a white tank top and a gray cardigan and her hair is still wet, leaving droplets of water all over the cardigan.

With her hand still on the spatula and her mouth slightly opened, Rachel cannot deny that weekend-casual-Quinn looks good. Definitely good.

"I smell bacon," the blonde says eagerly, making all three of them laugh.

'_Told ya,' _Santana thinks.

"Yes, breakfast will be ready in a few. Just grab some coffee and wait."

But Quinn seems to have other plans.

The blonde sneaks silently next to Rachel, her head peaking over her shoulder to watch some of her favourite treat being served into a plate. Rachel hums quietly to herself, trying to hide a smile at Quinn's antics, when, out of nowhere, she catches the sight of a hand slowly approaching the plate.

"Hey!" She slaps the hand away with a squeak and turns in time to watch the giddy expression on Quinn's face clouding over. Rachel panics a little. Is it too early in their friendship for this kind of jokes? Did she go too far slapping Quinn's hand away? Is the girl going to go all HBIC to her now? But Rachel's fears subside quickly when Quinn's frown turns into a full blown pout.

'_But I want it now!'_ Quinn thinks stubbornly.

Rachel shakes her head, amused, and grins at her. "That pout is not going to work on me, Fabray. I invented it."

'_Damn you and your pretty smile Berry. It always works with Mom.'_ "Whatever," Quinn grumbles as she sits next to Brittany. "Just hurry up. I'm starving."

Rachel watches as Brittany reaches up to brush her fingers through the girls' wet hair and Quinn smiles a little. "Did you go running?"

Quinn nods. "Like every weekend."

"You could have woken me up."

Quinn laughs. "You never come with me when I do, lazy bum." Brittany giggles. "Besides," Quinn throws a glance to a distraught Latina, "you looked too comfy this morning."

Brittany's face falls. She drops her hand from Quinn's hair and glances at Santana briefly. _'It didn't mean anything. I'm still mad. Very mad.' _"I don't know what you're talking about."

Quinn nods and fixes her gaze on the table and Rachel turns to the bacon, humming a little bit louder this time to break the awkward silence that just fell over the room.

Ten minutes later, the food is served and everyone is digging into their plates with gusto. Some more than others, Rachel thinks as she watches Brittany avoiding Santana's eyes and the Latina shifting uncomfortably while Quinn makes an almost orgasmic face while she nibbles on her bacon.

"You know, Berry, for being a vegan you cook bacon pretty good," Quinn concedes.

"I am very well versed in the art of cooking, Quinn. My fathers are always trying new innovating dishes and although sometimes they end up inedible, it works as a great practice. Also, my Daddy is not a vegan and he eats meat more often than not, so there is always meat in our fridge. I actually suspect he finds amusement in picking fights with me over it."

"Fuck's sake Berry, a simple fucking 'thanks' would have done," Santana barks annoyed.

Rachel opens her mouth to answer but Quinn beats her to it. "You don't have to be a bitch to her just because you are frustrated." She props her elbows on the table, leaning her upper body forward with a cold glare. "Being an ass to Rachel is not gonna fix your shit."

"What the fuck do you know, Tubbers? Maybe it's my way of relaxing."

"Well, find a new one."

"What are you, her knight in shinning armor?"

"Well, mayb-"

"Again?" Brittany asks, exasperated. "It's too early for your fights, so stop the violence. At least while I eat my pancakes."

Both girls sit back with a huff, sending death glares and mental comebacks to one another that Rachel tries to ignore; instead she focuses on her toast with jam. Suddenly Quinn's phone beeps in her jeans pocket. She slips it out and opens it under the table.

'_Hey Q, sup. Look I think we need to talk. Can we meet? Sam.' _Rachel hears as she reads the text. _'What the hell…?'_

The blonde types her reply as Brittany start clearing the table.

'_What… do you… want to talk…about?'_

Rachel waits surreptitiously for the boy to answer Quinn, shaking off the non-existent dust on her pajama shirt. The phone beeps again.

'_Just meet me. I have to ask you something. I think you'll like the idea. Sam.' _ Quinn sighs. _'Yeah, okay… I'm at Britt's… pick me up at… my place in… half an hour.'_

"Do you guys want to do something this morning?" Brittany asks while she and Santana do the dishes.

"Uhm… I can't. Mom just texted me, I should be heading home," Quinn lies. The brunette frowns at this, a hot, unpleasant sensation rushing through her; something between jealousy, betrayal and disappointment.

"I should be home soon, as you must know this is the first time I spend the night at someone else's place and my fathers tend to get a little paranoid if I'm not home after a while. Mostly Dad, he has a penchant for the dramatic," she mumbles, already standing and wanting to leave as soon as possible as to not confront Quinn on her lie.

'_Oh, so that's where you get it from.' _Santana muses to herself, smirking when she realizes Rachel can't argue with her. She turns to Brittany, handing her a soapy plate. "I can stay if you w-"

"No." Brittany shakes her head firmly. "I should do my math problems anyway. They're gonna take me all weekend. The last time I used a calculator, I ended up calling someone in Thailand."

Santana bites her lip. "I could help."

"Then I wouldn't learn anything." She rinses the last plate, wipes her hands and stands still looking at the floor. Finally she looks up at a frowning Santana. "Besides, there are other problems you have to solve."

And with that, the blue-eyed girl walks out of the room.

Quinn leaves minutes after, mumbling something about her mom again. When the door closes, Rachel approaches Santana who's standing with her back leaning on the counter and her head down.

"You know what's bothering B, right?" Santana asks dryly.

"I do. But it's not my place to tell you. Sometime around the baby debacle I promised myself I wouldn't meddle with other people's relationships for it only causes problems."

"Great. Just great. When I need you to be your usual bigmouth self you decide to shut up. How am I supposed to know what the hell she wants?" Santana argues. _'You kind of already know Lopez. You are just being a pathetic coward.'_

Rachel raises her eyebrows pointedly.

"I wish you would just stop doing that," Santana sighs, resigned.

"It sometimes comes in handy." Rachel teases tentatively. Santana rolls her eyes.

…

"Dad, Daddy, I'm home."

Rachel hears the thumping of bare feet coming from the living room and jumps a little when her Dad runs into her and gives her a very tight and long hug. She fights a little for oxygen. "Rachel. You're home." He releases her and laughs awkwardly at her baffled expression. "Heh. Not that I was… worrying or anything. It's just… weird not having you home for a whole day… almost. But I'm- I- did you have fun? With your friends?"

Her Daddy laughs as he watches the scene and takes Rachel's jacket which the girl still hasn't had time to take off. "Hiram, honey, relax. I told you she was going to be here in the morning." Leroy turns to her daughter. "Geez, your Daddy is such a drama queen."

"I resent that!" Hiram cries as his husband and his daughter make their way into the living room laughing at his expense.

"He made up the craziest ideas last night. I swear I could have written a very dramatic book with all the theories he came up with."

"Really?" Rachel laughs harder. Hiram pouts.

"Totally. I would have called it 'A Series of Unfortunate and Highly Improbable- But it Doesn't Matter 'Cause I'm a Drama Queen- Events'."

They laugh some more. Hiram huffs.

"A mocking family. Isn't that lovely?"

…

Rachel spends a big part of Saturday and Sunday morning catching up on her homework, going to dance class and practicing her scales ("I can't believe I forgot yesterday!"). She texts Quinn when she figures the Sunday morning mass she knows the blonde and Judy attend is finished and asks her if she wants to come over, which is a tremendously courageous step in Rachel's point of view, but Quinn claims to already have plans with Brittany and Santana.

Rachel feels a pang in her heart at the lie because she talked to Brittany later on Saturday and she knows Santana is M.I.A. and there's little to no possibility of her suddenly feeling like hanging out with Brittany, who's still giving her the silent treatment.

She decides then to prepare a new video for her MySpace (a longer than normal one, containing an exhaustive explanation for the lack of video updates lately) to let out all that has been bottling up inside her these past days. Rachel flips through her sheets of music to try and find some song that would express exactly how she's feeling when she realizes she's not sure of how that is.

Letting the folder slip to the bed, Rachel rubs her forehead. She's used to the inner turmoil of thoughts coming from other people and swirling in her head, but this is new. These are her own ideas and she doesn't know how to organize them. Almost unconsciously, she rises from the bed and walks to her Dad's study.

"Come in," her Dad says after her timid knocking.

"Hi, Dad."

"Hey, Pumpkin. Did you need anything?" Hiram asks, tearing his eyes from the papers in front of him.

"Actually, yes." She plops into the brown leather couch, looking a little distraught.

"Well?"

"Dad, what would you do," she starts gesticulating with her hands, "if you were _certain_ that someone was lying to you, but you were _not _supposed to know it? Hypothetically speaking of course."

'_Someone's been lying to her?'_ Hiram thinks before answering. "Well, that depends. Is this person a friend? Hypothetically."

"Yes," Rachel answers quickly, then adds, "let's say they are."

"Well, first I would try to figure out why my friend doesn't trust me enough to tell me the truth in the first place."

Rachel squirms a little. "But what if you knew whatever that person is hiding is a big secret and you understood why they wouldn't want to share it, but you still feel awful when they lie about it, although there's no need whatsoever, because you are a very open-minded person and _maybe_ you kind of share this secret with them, and you wish they'd just tell you the truth but you _can't _confront them about this matter, because you aren't supposed to know and you _really_ don't want to explain how you find out?" Rachel asks in a single breath. "Hypothetically."

'_What is going on in your life, sweetie?' _Hiram wonders gaping at his daughter. "Well, if that were the case…" he taps his chin thoughtfully, "I would try to very subtly let them know that if they were to tell you, you'd be more than accepting about it."

Rachel seems to ponder this for a second, then begins to nod slowly. "You know, Dad? I think that might just work." Rachel snaps out of her thoughts. "If this was a real situation, of course. Which is not. This was just…" she stands, waving around awkwardly.

"Hypothetical," her Dad offers with a smirk.

"Yes. I must go do my MySpace video now." Rachel stumbles as she retreats towards the door. "Thanks for the talk, Dad."

"Anytime, sweetie." Hiram watches the door his daughter just closed with a raised eyebrow and sighs. "Well, that was odd."

…

After an unusually quiet dinner, Rachel walks distractedly up to her room under the worried stare of her dads and throws herself on her bed with a dramatic sigh. She lays spread eagle and staring at the star stickers she put on her ceiling when she was six "recreating the exact distribution of the stars in Orion's Belt constellation"- or so she said- for who-knows-how-long when a familiar beep brings Rachel out of her thoughts.

**Quinn Fabray (1)**

Rachel stands in front of her laptop, the little red box signalling she has a chat message staring back at her. She quickly picks it up and carries it back to her bed, settling herself against the pillows.

**Quinn**

hey

**Rachel**

Hi Quinn :)

**Quinn**

oh no, you are one of them

Rachel frowns, confused.

**Rachel **

One of who, may I ask?

**Quinn**

a smiley face lover

The brunette rolls her eyes.

**Rachel**

Well, yes, on the internet is very hard to convey your true feelings so I was aiming for a warm greeting with that happy face.

**Rachel**

But it's okay, next time I'll just throw you a 'sup' or one of those senseless, generic, slang greetings so you don't feel threatened by the little scary face.

**Quinn**

har har

**Quinn**

smartass

**Rachel**

:)

**Quinn**

you're lucky you're on my good side now

**Rachel**

Am I?

**Quinn**

yeah

**Quinn**

you really are

'Then why don't you trust me?' Rachel almost types. She nibbles on her lip nervously, pondering if she should ask about what has been bothering her all weekend or let it go. She decides to take a subtle turn with the conversation.

**Rachel**

So, did everything go well with your mom?

**Quinn**

uh?

**Quinn**

oh! yeah

**Quinn**

she just needed my car

**Quinn**

cause hers broke

**Quinn**

so yeah

**Rachel**

Right.

Rachel, in her room, huffs and crosses her arms, her fingers itching to just keep pestering Quinn about it until she uncovers her lie.

**Quinn**

I had fun Friday

And just like that, Rachel's shoulders fall, a small smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

**Rachel**

Me too.

**Quinn**

we should do it again

**Quinn**

maybe call Mercedes and Tina too

**Rachel**

Really? I thought those sleepovers were kind of 'your thing'.

**Rachel**

I actually felt like I was intruding a little.

Rachel sits anxiously waiting for the answer. She busies herself changing the song on her iTunes randomly, not even listening to more than two seconds of each until the beep sounds again.

**Quinn**

what? no, you weren't

**Quinn**

lol

Rachel taps her fingers on the keyboard, not really clicking any key.

**Quinn**

Rachel really, you weren't. it was fun. I liked having you there

**Quinn**

:)

Rachel beams, way more relieved after the confirmation.

**Rachel**

You surrendered to the charm of smiley faces!

**Quinn**

hahah

**Quinn**

you are very convincing

**Rachel**

That I am.

**Rachel**

My dads say it's hard to deny me anything.

**Quinn**

hahah oh I know

Rachel's heart skips a beat.

**Rachel**

You do?

**Quinn**

uh, yeah. so, only a month until sectionals uh?

The brunette squints her eyes at Quinn's topic change, but soon she dismisses the thought and throws herself into a detailed explanation of what she has prepared for the next Glee practices.

Hours later, Rachel smiles lazily at Quinn's last teasing remark as she lays down on her pillows with her laptop on her stomach. She yawns for the nth time, blinking rapidly to make out the words on the screen.

**Quinn**

oh, wow we should go to bed if we want to get up tomorrow for class

Rachel frowns and glances at her nightstand, bolting out in a panic when she reads the time on her star shaped alarm clock.

**Rachel**

Oh my Streisand! It's close to midnight!

**Quinn **

something evil is lurking in the dark?

**Rachel**

Quinn this is not a laughing matter! I need my 8 hours of sleep! It's extremely important to be alert and ready at any time of the day, you never know when a talent scout is going to find you and I won't give my best if I don't get my sleep time!

**Quinn**

hahah so go to bed superstar

**Rachel**

I'm already two hours short and I still need to do my nightly routine! I blame you, Quinn Fabray!

**Quinn**

how is this my fault?

**Rachel**

Because! You are being funny and witty and charming and a great conversationalist and I can't resist a good conversation. You know it's my weakness, so you used it against me so I couldn't get my much needed sleep. You evil person. Well, you won't succeed because I'm leaving. I'll see you tomorrow Quinn.

**Quinn**

wait!

**Rachel**

Yes?

**Quinn**

you think I'm charming?

Rachel rolls her eyes with a half smile.

**Rachel **

Goodnight Quinn.

…

Rachel is having an awful morning.

First, her and her Dad went through the Berry's vs. Evil Toaster 2.0 battle.

The toaster won.

Second, she is late.

Well, she is not really late but she's still freaking out in a very Berry fashion because, when one is used to arriving to school when there's still no one in the hall and sitting in class before anyone has entered it, seeing the students wandering around, running to their classes at the last minute is completely nerve-racking.

So much that when she finally opens her locker, throws her books inside and takes off to class- all the while muttering 'never again, never again' quietly to herself- she fails to notice the two blonde Cheerios watching her from the door of their respective class where they wait for the bell to ring. One of them is watching in confusion, wondering why Rachel looks like she took Vitamin D again and the other watches knowingly before stifling a yawn.

Rachel reaches her class as the teacher goes to close the door. He looks at her surprised and a little disappointed and Rachel trips over herself with apologies. But the pinnacle of her nightmare morning happens just when Mr. Colin asks her to sit and she realizes the only empty seat is next to Finn.

Dropping herself on the chair, she mentally curses Quinn for making her stay up so late last night. None of this would have happened if the blonde hadn't been such delightful cyber company.

She smiles a little at the memory and sighs, resigned because who is she trying to fool? She can't be mad at Quinn.

Half an hour into the lesson Finn slips a note to her side of the table and she frowns at it, glancing up at the boy to see him sending her his trade mark half smile. Some time ago she would have been fawning all over it but now, Rachel can't help but think he looks constipated.

_Can we talk? _The note says. Rachel scribbles down on it and passes it back to him.

_We're in class, Finn. We should be attentive._

_Yeah I know, I meant after class._

Rachel ponders it for a moment. Does she really want to know anything the boy wants to say? She's still hurt about how he lied to her about his supposed virginity. It was a shameful thing to do, something she never imagined Finn was capable of. But it looks like the Finn she thought she knew has nothing to do with the real one. Rachel realizes how blinded she was by the Golden Boy façade and her own need to find her perfect male lead. It only took an electrifying experience to find out.

Still she has to admit that maybe she kind of overreacted that day in the choir room. Besides, he actually was good friend material and she should at least give him that; the right to explain himself.

_Okay._

…

"What did you want to talk about?"

Finn follows Rachel closely as she makes her way to her locker to get her book for her next class. He rings his hands together and struggles to answer.

"Well, I wanted to…" He touches Rachel's shoulder to turn her around. "I want to apologize."

"Oh."

"Look, I know it was wrong and- and I hurt you like, really bad, but I wasn't trying to." Rachel watches his forlorn expression and sighs. _'It really wasn't my intention, she has to believe me!'_

"Okay, Finn. I believe you."

He brightens up at this reminding her of a puppy with a treat. "Really?"

"You're right. It hurt me. It hurt me a lot that you lied to me and that you made me believe we both were waiting for the other." Rachel pauses as she reaches her locker and he looks at the floor again. "But the past is in the past and I'm willing to let it go."

"So… am I forgiven?"

Rachel rolls her eyes. "You have to work on that."

"Okay." Finn bobs his head eagerly. "So I was thinking. We could like, go to Breadsticks this Friday."

Rachel freezes with her hand on the locker door.

'_If I can win her trust back I'm sure we could be together again. I just need to be like, the perfect date. She might be annoying sometimes, but I just… kinda miss her.'_

No, no, no, no, Rachel thinks. "Finn." She turns to him and grabs his arm to get his attention. He smiles goofily. "This doesn't mean I want to get back with you again. I'm sorry but I think that train left long ago."

"Wait, but-" he frowns confused. "You are like, supposed to be in love with me and- and- we are like, meant to be or whatever!"

"Finn, I'm not in love with you, okay? And neither are you or you wouldn't have lied to me." He seems to want to argue that point but Rachel continues. "I don't think I ever was in love with you, I see that now. You were everything I ever thought I wanted and I had a _very_ unhealthy obsession with you but that's it. I care a lot about you Finn, but… we are not meant to be."

Finn huffs petulantly, fiddling with the strap of his bag. "Is there someone else?"

Quinn's image pops automatically in Rachel's mind and she blushes. "That has nothing to do with the fact that we can't be together anymore."

"But there's someone?"

"Maybe."

Finn nods again with a serious expression that looks really awkward on his boyish face. "He is lucky," he says in one of his genuine, unexpected, very far away from each other, gestures of maturity. "I hope he is also smarter than me and doesn't let you go."

"Thanks, Finn," Rachel says honestly.

The tall boy bends down to hug her and Rachel accepts it somewhat uncomfortably.

"We can still be friends right?" He asks when they break apart.

"I'd like that."

…

Rachel has fourth period free and she's rummaging through her locker to pick out her sheet music and go to the auditorium like she does every time she has a free period.

"Hey, superstar."

The brunette jumps two feet in the air at the voice, clutching her heart like it's going to burst out of her chest. She was so focused on her task, she missed her new favourite person approaching.

"Quinn, you scared me."

"What are you doing?" She asks ignoring Rachel's almost heart attack.

"Trying to find my sheet music that I know for a fact was here but it seems to have met the permanent black hole in my locker because I can't think of another explanation as to why everything disappears even after you are sure you put it between your history book and your copy of Barbra's biography."

Quinn nods slowly. "You have a copy of-" She shakes her head. "Nevermind. So, now that you can't find your music, does that mean you can't go belt your heart out in the auditorium, so you are free?"

"How did you know-"

"Wanna join me?" Quinn asks hopefully_. 'Please say yes, please. Come on she has nothing else to do and I… kinda miss her. God, that's so pathetic, I talked to her last night…'_

"Sure." Rachel smiles shyly then a thought strikes her. "Why are you not in class?"

"Same reason as you." Quinn shrugs as they make their way down the hall.

Rachel pouts. "I never knew you had free now too."

'_That's because I used to hide in the auditorium and listen to you singing at the beginning of the year.'_ "Well, now you know."

Rachel bites her lip to stop her grin. "Where are we going?"

"To the library. Lately I've been joining Mike and Artie in our little study group during this period. Sam joins sometimes too."

"They have free too?" Rachel pouts bigger.

"Yes," Quinn chuckles, opening the door for her. "Now stop pouting, superstar, and come in." _'That pout is too much to handle.'_

"You know, that new nickname of yours does nothing to me. If anything, it boosts my ego."

"I know," Quinn says with that little smirk that melts Rachel into a poodle of goo.

They reach their friends' table and Rachel sits in front of Artie who's next to Mike, seemingly working on a science project together. Quinn plops down next to her and brings out her Math book.

"Hi." Rachel whispers at the two boys.

"Yo, Rach. Q."

"Hey Quinn. Rachel, you joining our study group?" Mike asks good-naturedly.

"If that's okay."

"Yeah!" "Sure." Both boys whisper.

She beams at them then turns to Quinn, who's watching the exchange with her head propped in her hand. When Rachel looks at her she smiles sweetly then points at her book. "Work," she mouths. Rachel quickly picks up her English homework.

Half an hour later, Sam makes his appearance. He's looking all pretty with his blonde hair and varsity jacket- that's when Rachel realizes she must have joined the football team- and she can't help but dislike him. And when he bends over to whisper into Quinn's ear, Rachel sees red.

"No," Quinn whispers hotly. "No. N- ugh all right."

The blonde stands with a groan, sending Rachel a tight smile and following Sam to the rows of book shelves. Rachel fumes quietly.

"I think-" she whispers pushing herself out of her chair, "I'm going to go find a dictionary."

"Wait, what word is it? Maybe we know it," Mike offers.

"Oh, uhm…" Rachel looks through her mental archives for a tricky word. "Verisimilitude."

'_The fuck?'_ "Uh," Mike turns to Artie confused, "yeah, you better look it up."

With a firm nod, Rachel makes her way where Sam and Quinn disappeared. She wanders through the rows of shelves, her ears following the murmur of a hushed conversation.

"…won't work, Sam. You need to drop it," Quinn is saying.

Rachel peaks through the books, catching a flash of blonde at the other side of the shelf. She grabs a thick, blue book and gets it out of the way, making a small gap to see what is happening.

Quinn is leaning on the shelf, her arms crossed and her bitchy face on. Sam is gesturing in front of her, seemingly trying to convince her of something.

"…can't you see? It's what is expected of us! The quarterback and the head Cheerio."

"You don't even like me!" Quinn whispers hotly.

"But we could help each other!"

"No, _I_ could help _you_. That's what you are really saying, isn't it?"

"Look, I know it sounds shallow-" Quinn scoffs, "-but it's the easiest way to go through high school. We could rule the school."

"Sam, no. Okay? No," Quinn says tiredly. "I'm done with lying. I'm done with doing what other people expect of me and I'm- I'm done pretending! I did it with Finn, I did it with my parents, I- I did it with…" _'Rachel,'_ "other people and I'm done. I like you Sam, you are a really good guy but I don't want to date you, fake or not."

Rachel's eyes pop out comically, her head dizzy with all the new information she's receiving.

Sam buries his hands into his pockets and looks down, resigned.

"But you came with me to Homecoming…" he mumbles.

Quinn sighs. "I was still… trying to fool myself."

"About what?"

Quinn breathes deep. "Look, Sam I… I like someone else." _'Oh my God, did I just- yes I did. I just admitted it out loud!'_

Rachel covers her mouth to stifle her gasp, clutching the book to her chest with the other hand.

"Oh." He nods understanding. "All right, I'm… sorry."

Quinn rolls her eyes. "Whatever," she says with no real bite.

"You should tell them."

"What?"

"Whoever you like, you should tell them. I mean, I'm sure they like you back."

Quinn smiles sadly. "Yeah, I doubt it. I haven't been a nice person to them, you know? I've been a real bitch."

Sam shrugs. "It's part of your charm."

The blonde girl chuckles before giving Sam a meaningful look, one that is saying 'thank you'.

"Lu tsteu."

"What?"

"It's na'vi, means be brave," he says with his cute, adorkable smile, then he claps his hands. "Come on, let's go back."

Quinn and Sam disappear from Rachel's sight and she bolts out of her trance. She starts to panic, flailing around to find something, some excuse as to why she's standing there and not look like she was eavesdropping. Her eyes stop at the blue book in her hands and she open it from a random page and leans casually on the shelf, putting her acting skills to good use.

"Rachel?" Sam asks.

'_Oh my God, did she hear? Shit, shit!'_ Quinn thinks.

The petite diva looks up with what she hopes is a disinterested look. "Sam, Quinn."

"What are you doing?" The boy asks curiously. Quinn at his side leans on the wall and bites her lip, face flushed.

"I- I'm- reading, as I'm sure you can see," Rachel squeaks.

Quinn cocks her head to the side, glancing at the cover of the book in Rachel's hand. "String Theory, Volume 1. An Introduction to the Bosonic String?" She asks and Rachel can hear the hint of smugness in her voice.

"Uh," Rachel taps the cover awkwardly, "yeah."

"Oh cool, I didn't know you were into physics and universe theories and stuff," Sam says impressed. Rachel figures she just won some cool points in his book.

'_She _so_ isn't. Dear Rachel, you are such an awful liar,' _Quinn thinks, biting back a smile.

Rachel huffs a little, her cheeks tinted red partly because of the endearment and partly out of embarrassment.

"Well, I am!" She closes the book forcefully. "In fact I've been looking for this book since forever; I was appalled that they didn't have it in Lima's Public Library. So, if you excuse me, I'm going to check out this masterpiece before someone else does and congratulate the librarian for their fantastic collection of physics books." And with a_ hmph_, Rachel spins on her heels and struts to the librarian desk.

"Yes, dear?"

"I would like to check out this book."

The old lady grabs it and eyes it curiously, before typing something in her computer. "That's quite the heavy reading."

Rachel smiles tightly, glancing back at her table nervously. The woman hands it back and Rachel walks back to her seat quickly, hiding the book behind her back. Sam is nowhere to be seen and Quinn is in her seat, seemingly immersed in her math problems, but Rachel knows better. The faint blush on her cheeks and the quick glance she throws at her out of the corner of her eye are a dead give away.

"Did you find it?"

Rachel snaps out of her thoughts as she pushes the book into her backpack and looks up to find Mike watching her.

"What?"

"What you were looking for, did you find it?"

'_Did she?'_ Quinn thinks a little worriedly.

Rachel smiles nervously, her eyes shifting from him to Quinn. "W-what?"

"Verisimilitude?" He turns to Artie. "Right?" He nods.

"Oh!" Rachel finally remembers. "Yes, I did. The appearance of truth."

"Nice." Mike nods before going back to his thing.

Out of the corner of her eye, Rachel sees Quinn straightening in her chair. '_What is she talking about? What truth?'_

Rachel smiles smugly. Ah, serves you right, Ms. Fabray.

…

When school is finally over, Rachel makes her way to the parking lot, the weight of 'String Theory, Volume 1. An Introduction to the Bosonic String' mocking her as she walks. She shakes her head trying to ignore the residual embarrassment that still makes her flush.

Her Daddy is about to go grocery shopping when she arrives home, so she runs to her room, throws her stuff in a corner and joins him. After the short trip, she helps him empty the bags of food and he tells her to go do something while he makes dinner. Rachel's phone beeps with a message when she enters her room.

_Wanna study 2gether? I dont want 2 b alone._ –Brittany

She answers it immediately.

_Of course! You can come whenever you want. _–Rachel

Three minutes later, the blonde is knocking on her door.

The usually bubbly and giddy girl looks positively depressed. Rachel can only imagine who's the cause. She helps her with her homework, shows her the difference between a phone and a calculator and when they finish she invites her to stay for dinner. Brittany eagerly accepts.

"There's no one home," she says sadly. "Usually when my parents leave with Claire to a competition, I stay with-" _'Santana' _"I stay with someone."

"Oh!" Rachel perks up at the idea of an impromptu sleepover. "You can stay here with me for as long as you want!"

"Really?"

"Of course!"

"Yay! Thank you, Rach!" Brittany lunges for her, engulfing the petite brunette in a crushing hug and jumping a little. Rachel decides to take the responsibility of making the girl smile like that for as long as she stays under her roof.

That night, they lay together in Rachel's bed watching Moulin Rouge because Brittany remembers she likes the songs a lot and there are really good dance numbers. When the movie ends, Brittany also remembers she hated the end because it always made her cry. She curls herself into Rachel, crying softly into her neck while the brunette rubs a comforting hand up and down her back. Rachel's heart breaks a little when a cracked sob breaks through Brittany's body, calling out something similar to "San…" and she realizes the blonde is finally letting out all the pent up frustration of her very complicated relationship with the Latina.

Brittany stays with Rachel for a few days and the brunette has almost no time to think about other matters concerning herself- read: Quinn- because she knows how much heartbreak hurts and she wants to do everything in her power to help the blonde. She walks with her to their classes, distracts her when Santana is in a ten feet radius, all the while throwing the Latina death glares while she flirts with Puck in the hall, and sings 'You've Got a Friend in Me' Toy Story version for her during Glee.

At home, she fills her dads in what is happening and they join the 'Make Brittany Smile' movement, with things like preparing her favorite food and letting her win during game night, even if the blonde tries to check mate Rachel's top hat metal token with her Scottie dog one.

Rachel even talks with Quinn and explains the situation to her so she can hang out with Brittany while she is in dance class. They go to the park one afternoon to feed the ducks, Brittany, Quinn and her and Quinn gets a call from Santana. The blonde moves a few feet away to talk to her, but Rachel still makes out the angry, disappointed tone in Quinn's voice and words like 'acting like a moron', 'get your head out of your ass' among others.

Brittany's parents call Friday after class and tell her they're already home. Rachel tears up a little when the blonde girl packs her things to leave. It's stupid because she has only been living with her for a few days and she's only going to be a few streets away, but she's a very sensitive soul, or so she tells Britt when the girl asks why she's crying.

The ditzy blonde smiles sweetly and hugs Rachel, a little less effusive this time, planting a chaste kiss on the shorter girl's lips.

"You're a good friend, Rach."

…

After Brittany leaves, Rachel plops herself on her desk chair with a sigh and lets her eyes rake her room slowly. She had quite the stressing week. And she would do it all again, everything not to hear Brittany's broken sobs calling out for a person that, even if she misses dearly, has only been hurting her.

Brown eyes fall finally to a thick, blue book that must have fallen from her bag and it's resting halfway under her dresser. Rachel smiles and blushes a little at the memory, her thoughts focusing on Quinn for the first time since that eventful day.

Rachel recalls Sam and Quinn's conversation and how Quinn's lie suddenly made sense in her mind. It also meant that Quinn was finally accepting her attraction to her and that was a huge step. She then remembers her conversation with her Dad and that half-cooked plan to get Quinn to trust her and confess, or at least subtly show her that she has nothing to be afraid of and that Rachel will be extremely accepting of the fact that Quinn likes her.

Yeah, wonder why that is, Rachel thinks with an eye-roll.

She needs a way to be with Quinn outside of school, where they can be alone and have a conversation without being interrupted. It also has to be a place where Quinn feels at ease.

Rachel starts making a mental list.

Her house is out of the equation- seeing as it's somewhere Quinn wouldn't feel familiar with- and it's not like she can auto-invite herself to the Fabray residence. She can't ask Quinn out to Breadsticks or a café or anything, not yet, lest the girl freak out and move back a couple steps. Santana's or Brittany's are a 'no' too, because one, she's sure neither of the girls are up to it right now and two, they wouldn't be alone.

Rachel groans. Well, she's still blank.

Brushing her fingers through her hair, her eyes fall again to the book under her dresser. She shrughs.

"Well, might as well."

…

"Daddy, pass me the potatoes, please."

"There you go, Rach."

The Berry family is having a nice dinner but a little more quiet than what they've been used to this past week.

Brittany definitely gave a new enthusiastic air to everything she touched.

They discovered that, when left free, the blonde could talk in lengths that would defy Rachel Berry's monologues. Brittany's were completely different though, most of them didn't make sense and were highly amusing. It was like having your own comedian at home.

Now the Berry family is strangely quiet.

"So…" Rachel finally says. "Did you know that the universe is believed to be circular?"

Her dads look at her like she just said an insanity and well, for them, she just had.

"What?"

"I've been reading a book about the universe. It's very interesting, something I'd never expected."

"Honey, why-" _'You don't want to go there, Leroy.' _"You know, that's great, Pumpkin," he says instead.

Rachel beams at him, then takes a deep breath. Both Hiram and Leroy recognize this sing as 'Rachel Berry preparing herself for a tirade about whatever it is she just found out and it's excited about' and Hiram soon comes to their rescue.

"Leroy, honey, didn't you say you needed to go shopping?" He looks at his husband pointedly. _'Humour me, Lee, or we'll have to endure Rachel's endless theories about the universe- And honestly, what is that about?'_

Rachel huffs mildly offended.

"Oh. Oh! Yeah I said that didn't I?" Leroy nods slowly. "Yes, because… I need a new… tracksuit! Yes, for my spinning class." _'That is true actually, mh.' _"Wanna come with, Rach?"

She looks bewildered. "Since when do you go to spinning class?"

"Since after summer, honey. I need to do some sport if I want to keep my slender figure."

Rachel chuckles. "Right." Then she frowns at her peas. Her Daddy was right, sport was important and she had been neglecting her elliptical- for obvious reasons- for almost a couple months now and she was getting out of shape. She got tired in dancing class the other day, for Barbra's sake! She needs to find some kind of activity that makes her exercise like her elliptical.

"So, do you want to come shopping with me tomorrow?"

But Rachel isn't listening anymore. The idea strikes her with its simplicity and brilliantness.

Tomorrow, she's going running. And killing two birds with one stone, she's not going alone.

…

Waking up with the thought that she's going to work out again is surprisingly refreshing for Rachel. Or maybe it's the knowledge that she has finally taken the initiative with Quinn.

Yes, that's right. Last night after Rachel had the sudden epiphany, she went straight to her room and dialled Quinn's number:

"_Rachel?"_

"_Hi, Quinn!" Rachel exclaimed, a little hyper with her idea. _

"_Hi," the blonde answered clearly amused by Rachel's out-of-breath greeting. "What's up?"_

"_Well, you see." Rachel paced on her room nervously. "I've been thinking of trying new exercising methods lately. Something… happened with my elliptical and I'm not too keen on using it again and I thought some outdoor activities will do me good. If I remember correctly, which I'm sure I do since I have an exceptional memory, you go running on the weekends, right?"_

"_Uh, I- y-yes, yeah, I do," Quinn choked on her answer._

"_And would you mind if I joined you tomorrow?" There was silence in the other line for a moment. "Quinn?"_

"_No." Rachel stopped dead in her tracks and gaped wordlessly at her phone. "I mean, no! I mean, not at all, I don't mind. You can come, if you want. It'd be great if you come. To have some company, that is."_

"_Great! That's great." Rachel jumped a little on her toes. "I will see you at 7:30 at the bus stop halfway to your house?"_

"_Sounds good to me."_

"_Great."_

With the conversation still fresh on her mind, Rachel puts on her black running shorts and an old gray sweatshirt with the neck cut out and puts her hair up in a ponytail, securing it firmly with her always trustworthy pink headband.

She beams and gives a firm nod at her image on the mirror.

Rachel steps out of her front door and into the street the way she does absolutely everything, with a consuming intensity. She feels the chill air of the morning, her breaths condensing a little as they escape her mouth, but nothing can spoil her good mood.

The walk to the bus stop seems longer than ever. Rachel wishes she had brought her iPod to have something else to focus on apart from the exhilarating but also nerve-racking feeling that she's walking towards a stage to perform a song she hasn't rehearsed. A song she doesn't even know. But carrying the little device and not using it in favor of talking to Quinn- which is what she really came for today- would be a little suspicious.

Rachel's enthusiasm diminishes when she eyes the bus stop. There's only an old lady standing there and the starlet checks the time again to make sure she's on time.

Well, perhaps I'm a little early, Rachel thinks. But as she approaches the place, she catches a pair of trainers, attached to crossed, pale legs, the owner of which seems to be seated on a bench behind the bus stop advertisement.

"Quinn!" Rachel greets excited when she confirms that the girl stretched out in the bench who has her head leaned on the glass wall and her eyes halfway closed is, in fact, her running buddy. "I didn't see you there for a moment and I thought you might be late but it was you just being a lazy bum. Aren't you supposed to be stretching and warming up instead of nodding off?"

"Good morning to you too, Rachel," Quinn says sarcastically eyes still closed, then yawns. "I'm not much of a morning person."

Rachel frowns as she stretches. "Still you relinquish precious, weekend sleep hours to go running?"

Quinn shrugs. "I wanted my abs back," she rubs a her eyes, finally opening them, "so I started to-" _'Holy. Freaking. Shit.' _"t-to go running to, ah… get rid of- of the baby fat." _'For the love of everything holy, are those shorts even there? And what's with the off-the-shoulder sweatshirt? That neck is just begging to be bitten, Christ! Could she make it harder for me?' _

"You seem to have achieved your goal rather successfully," Rachel mutters loud enough for Quinn to hear as her brown eyes rake over Quinn's usual running attire. The same pair of running shorts as that morning at the Pierce's and a red sports bra. She lingers on the cheerleader's midriff. Definitely got back the abs.

'_Is Berry… flirting? No way.' _"W-we should uh, probably go. We don't want to be too hot- I mean! We don't want the sun to be too hot! While we are still… running." _'Geez, you can shut your mouth now, Fabray. Nice. Now stop with the ogling too!'_

"I agree," Rachel wheezes out, feeling already too hot for this time of the day.

They start trotting at a regular pace down the street. "Where to?" Quinn asks staring ahead.

"Where do you usually go?"

"Well, there's a nice park halfway between Santana's and-"

"And Brittany's, yes I know," Rachel cuts off as they take a turn towards the park.

Quinn dares a quick glance at Rachel. "You do?"

"Yeah, they've taken me there a couple of times," the brunette says rather proudly.

"They must really like you then," Quinn adds with a smile and this time, there's not a trace of bitterness or jealousy in her voice. _'I can see why.'_

"I guess… I'm more tolerable outside of school. And when I'm comfortable with someone." Rachel shrugs, the hem of the neckline of her sweatshirt slipping a few inches down her arm.

'_Her skin is seriously perfect. It's like bronze or something,' _Quinn thinks briefly before averting her eyes. Rachel bites back a smile as she pushes the fabric back in place. "Wow, that means you are comfortable with Santana Lopez? Who would've thought that months ago?"

"Who would have thought I'd be going for a run with Quinn Fabray of all people?" Rachel points out teasingly.

"Fair enough." Quinn laughs. "I have noticed you are pretty cool when you relax. Does that mean you are comfortable with me?"

Rachel rolls her eyes at Quinn's smirk. "I guess."

Suddenly the blonde's face saddens. "I still- I can't understand why you wanted us to be friends. Why would you- why give me a chance?"

"Why not?" Rachel asks, although she knows what Quinn is talking about.

"Because…" _'I don't deserve it. I don't deserve you.'_ They reach the park and begin following a path that must be familiar for Quinn. "I've been nothing but awful to you since we've known each other."

"That's not true," Rachel argues, "we were good friends in kindergarten. The first day I lent you my crayons and you told me my dress was pretty."

Quinn laughs good-naturedly. "Oh God. I completely forgot about that."

"I didn't."

"Yeah, but everyone is friends in kindergarten. After that… after that I was a bitch to you."

Rachel nods. "You were. But I always knew that sweet girl was somewhere inside of you." She shrugs, like she doesn't know how to explain it. "I've known you for twelve years, Quinn. We may not have been friends these past years but we still know each other better than most and I knew what being a Fabray entailed. Being under the pressure of your parents, of what people expected of you in school; it was only right for you to tear down the unpopular, greatly misunderstood, talented girl. It didn't make it hurt any less, but at least I had the hope you'd stop caring about what other people thought one day and you'd be that shy girl with the kind smile that complimented my favourite dress."

Quinn gapes at her, her face focused on Rachel and the brunette worries for a second Quinn is going to crash into something.

'_How is she- what on earth did I do to deserve someone like her? Here you are, Quinn Fabray, royal bitch and tormentor, and there she is, being all adorable and forgiving and for God's sake, finding good in you, you didn't even know existed!'_ Quinn finally coughs and looks away with a blush. _'This moment is as good as any other to do what you've been wanting to do since… well since the first time you saw her smile disappearing because of you.'_

"I'm sorry, Rachel." Quinn avoids looking at her. "God, I'm so sorry. I know it's… useless now to apologize because the wrong is already done but, I'm truly, terrible sorry."

"It's never useless to apologize, Quinn." Rachel smiles, then bumps her shoulder to Quinn's. "Besides, I already forgave you. We're friends now, right?"

'_Only friends… I'll take what I can have.'_ "Yeah."

They fall silent for a moment, the only sound their slightly laboured breathing and Quinn's jumbled thoughts.

'_That wasn't so hard… should've done it before. Feels good to be forgiven. Maybe we could do this every weekend.'_ Quinn's lips curl upwards briefly. _'We could be running buddies… it'll be our secret. Being alone with her is awesome… I don't want to share her with Santana and Brittany.'_ This time, the blonde shakes her head_. 'That's stupid, they were her friends before... I wonder what would have happened if I had been the one to check on her? Maybe I could've apologized earlier… maybe we'd be more than friends…'_

Rachel feels the first drops of sweat tickling her neck. Without thinking, she grasps the edge of her sweatshirt and pulls it up to her face to wipe her sticky skin, leaving her stomach uncovered and even flashing a tiny sliver of white sports bra.

'_Yeah, right, like she would ever want toooh holy shit! OH FUCK!' _"Ow, ow, ow."

"Quinn!" Rachel cries when she catches up with what just happened. The blonde seems to have tripped on something and she's now sitting on the ground and cradling her ankle with a pained expression. "Oh my God, are you okay?"

The brunette quickly kneels in front of her, her hands hovering over her leg and her eyes frantically assessing the damage.

"No…" Quinn whimpers. Rachel notices she's biting back tears. _'Come on, don't be a pussy. Tears are for the weak.'_

"Come on, let me help you up." Quinn shakes her head. "Yes, Quinn, I know your ankle hurts but you have a very ugly scrape on your knee that needs to be cleaned."

Quinn sniffles, glancing at her knee. She winces. "Okay."

Rachel drapes an arm around the Cheerio's waist, pulling her up carefully. Quinn winces as she jumps on her good leg to position her body up against Rachel's smaller one and throws her arm over the brunette's shoulders.

"Come on, I saw a fountain a few trees away."

Rachel carries the girl with some difficulty and Quinn giggles, mumbling something about Rachel's short stature. She lets it go with a head shake because it's distracting the blonde from the pain.

"There," Rachel says softly as she helps Quinn sit on the edge of the small fountain. "Let's put some water on it, okay?"

"Yeah," Quinn rasps.

Rachel cradles some water with her hands and pours it on Quinn's knee carefully, getting it cleaned of sand and small pebbles. She repeats it a few times under the intense gaze of the blonde.

'_She's so kind. It's just… the way she does everything. Shows how big of a heart she has… I can't believe I ever judged her so harshly…'_

"There, all clean," Rachel announces softly. She wipes the droplets of water that are running down Quinn's calf and looks up at the girl. "I'm afraid I'm going to have to take the shoe off to see if it's swelling and if we need to go to the doctor."

Quinn gulps. "Okay."

"It's going to hurt a little." Rachel smiles sympathetically as she rubs Quinn's calf with one hand comfortingly, the other taking the heel of Quinn's trainer and pulling it out carefully.

"Ow, ow, ow…" Quinn winces. She bites her tongue to stop the tears that threaten to escape.

"All right, it's out. Doesn't look too bad. Now I'm taking off your sock too so you can put it under the water. The cool will do good to it," Rachel explains as she takes the sock off swiftly.

Quinn hums as she bathes her ankle into the cool water. "It's swelling a little," she mumbles annoyed.

"Yeah." Rachel frowns up at her. "How did it even happen?"

"Uh…" Quinn blushes profusely. "There was a rock. I didn't see it."

"How?"

She gulps. "I got distracted."

"By what exactly?" Rachel asks with a raised eyebrow, although she already has a fair idea.

'_By you! Showing off your abs and- and Jesus Christ, I think I saw her bra.' _"I can't remember." Quinn pulls her foot out of the water, moving it a little from side to side. "It doesn't hurt that much."

"Good, that means it wasn't anything serious." Rachel goes back to rubbing Quinn's calf with her hand, her eyes piercing on the blonde's flushed face. "Your house is not too far away, I can help you walk there. We should put some ice on this."

"Mhm…" Quinn nearly purrs at Rachel's gentle rubbing.

"All right, let's go then."

The walk to Quinn's place is silent and only slightly awkward. Part of Quinn keeps mentally berating herself for her clumsiness while the other is trying to contain her mental flailing for being so close to Rachel. These last thoughts are making the brunette blush and be even more aware of their flushed bodies and the way Quinn's skin feels under her hand on her waist.

Rachel pushes the Fabrays' door open with the hand not holding Quinn and the blonde guides her through the house (the mansion, Rachel thinks), and to the living room where she falls into the couch with a groan.

"Is your mom home?"

"No, I think she's at, uh…" _'Alcoholics Anonymous,'_ "breakfast with friends or something."

Rachel forces a smile, swallowing the guilt that always comes with finding out a secret that someone is so clearly trying to hide. Something Quinn is ashamed of and she should never, ever know. It's not her place and she has nothing to do with it. Rachel feels a little sick to her stomach but tries to ignore it for the time being. There are more important things to do than ponder the morality of her power.

"Right. Well, first things first. Where is the kitchen?"

"That door over there," Quinn points. "There has to be some ice in the freezer."

"Be right back."

A couple minutes later, the petite diva appears with the ice and a couple of bottles of water. "Here, this is for you," she gives Quinn a bottle then sits on the couch next to her, carefully moving Quinn's foot to her lap. "And this goes here…" the blonde gasps as the ice makes contact with her ankle, "oh you big baby," Rachel teases.

"It's cold!"

"Well, of course it is. That's kind of the point." Rachel tries to hide her amused smile.

"Shut up," Quinn mumbles.

They stay in silence for a few minutes, during which Quinn throws her head back, sighing contently at the subsiding pain and Rachel moves the ice pack from time to time to see how the swelling is going. It looks to be decreasing which is a very good sign.

Suddenly a phone starts blasting from another room.

"Shit, that's my phone."

"Do you want me to get it?"

"Yeah, please. My room is the second to the left down the hall."

Rachel leaves Quinn to nurse her own ankle and rushes to her room, not wasting a second to inspect until the last corner of the blonde's sanctuary like she would have liked, instead she quickly spots the phone and runs back to the living room.

"Here."

Quinn glances at the screen and rolls her eyes. _'This is getting old pretty fast…'_ "What now?" She says to whoever is at the other end of the line.

Rachel takes her previous position, her eyes never leaving the blonde's expressive face.

"I was out. Running." There's a pause. "No, I haven't heard from her." Quinn rolls her eyes again. "You are a big girl, S. Do whatever you have to do."

Rachel "ooh's" quietly to herself.

'_Like hell she doesn't know, she's just scared shitless.'_ "Yes you do, S," Quinn says. She inspects her nails, listening to Santana for a moment before cutting her off. "S, S! Stop it, just- Good lord, just go to her and tell her. You both are just going in circles around it and prolonging the inevitable-" Quinn abruptly stops, then rubs her hand on her face. "Do you even believe that, San? Everyone seems to know how B feels for you but you!"

Rachel nods to herself and Quinn sends her a small smile at the gesture.

"Suck it up, S. Just… stop being afraid, or you'll never know." Suddenly Quinn's demeanor changes. Looks like Santana said something that made her uneasy. She watches Rachel out of the corner of her eye. _'It's not the same situation at all.'_ "I don't know what you're talking about." Quinn sighs. "Yeah, whatever. I have to go. I'll talk to you later." There's a pause. "Bye."

"For a girl as smart as Santana Lopez, it's taking a while for her to realize what Brittany's reason for being upset is."

"It's not that. She knows perfectly well that Brittany's not happy that she's sleeping with Puck."

"Then what is taking her so long?" Rachel asks, a little exasperated.

"Santana…" Quinn starts with a long breath. "She might want to pretend she's this tough girl from the wrong side of town, that doesn't give a damn about anyone, but she does. She's just afraid of what would people say, what it would do to her status, what it would… _mean_ to admit that those feelings are real and be in a relationship with Brittany." Quinn looks lost in her thoughts. "She's also not sure that Britt and her are in the same page. Like, she thinks B might be jealous just because they were also sleeping together, nothing else. She's not only scared that if she were to open up about her feelings she would lose her HBIC position but also lose her best friend in the process. So she turns to Puck every now and then, when her insecurities get to her."

"Wow," Rachel breathes out. "Who knew Santana Lopez was capable of feeling so deeply. How do you even know about this?"

"Like you said before, S and I could have had our differences in the past, but we've known each other since we were toddlers. We are kind of best friends turned enemies turned frienemies." Quinn shrugs airily. "These things you just know."

"I don't think Santana has anything to be afraid of," Rachel says finally after a minute of quiet thinking.

"Couldn't agree more."

"I mean, even if it wasn't obvious that Brittany's feelings go more deeply than a superficial jealousy caused by her on and off sexual partner sleeping with someone else." Rachel turns to face Quinn completely. "Even then, she should just go for it."

Quinn eyes her curiously. "What do you mean?"

"I guess, what I'm trying to say is, if you really want something, just go for it. You shouldn't stop yourself from pursuing a goal only because you are afraid of the consequences. Like, look at me for example," Rachel explains intently, "I know setting a goal as high as Broadway won't be easy. Will that stop me? I don't think so. The taunting, the bullying- caused mainly by obvious jealousy of my talent and predictable future outside of this hellhole; did those stop me? Never."

Quinn smiles, a tiny burst of pride rushing through her body.

"The case of wanting someone is just the same," Rachel continues, suddenly seeing the perfect way to make Quinn understand. "Even if you are scared, even if you feel that person might not feel the same; you just can't stop yourself from trying because if you do, there will come a day when you will look back and you will ask yourself, _what if?_ And sadly, the moment to know the answer would have passed and you'd never know."

Quinn gulps hardly. _'Is she telling me something…? No. No, that's ridiculous.'_

"And how many times do we miss the signs that are right in front of us? What about when you are too busy hiding feelings- or trying to suppress them because you are scared- to notice those hints that tell us that there's no reason to? That the sign we were waiting for is right in front of us," Rachel finishes softly. She looks pointedly at the blonde, trying to convey the true meaning of her words. "It may be my musical-inspired way of seeing life, but I strongly believe that if you _really_ want something, it is always worth the risk."

"I… guess." Quinn shifts on her seat. _'She's definitely telling me something. But oh god, what am I supposed to do now? I- I'm not- I can't just come out and- oh lord.'_

Rachel sighs quietly. Well at least she's not at square one anymore. They stay silent for a moment, the brunette attentively listening to Quinn's internal battle of _'Say something! No, don't. She practically told you she would be okay with it! No she didn't, she was talking about Santana. You know at the end she wasn't. Well, what if she was? But what if she wasn't? It could end in disaster. But she told you not to be afraid. Well, but I am!'_ and so on.

"Anyway, I should go home," Rachel finally says, patting a distracted Quinn on the leg and the blonde moves it so she can stand. Rachel is about to say goodbye when Quinn also starts standing. "What are you doing?"

"I'm… walking you to the door?"

"You shouldn't be walking."

"I'm fine," Quinn mumbles, her mind still buzzing with ideas and fighting with herself.

They walk to the door and Rachel steps out, glancing at the empty street before turning back to the blonde. Quinn is holding the door with one hand, the other closed tightly into a fist and looking intently at some point somewhere around Rachel's waist.

"Okay, so, I'll see you on Mon-" Rachel starts before Quinn cuts her off.

"I read the newspaper," she suddenly squeaks. Rachel gapes at her for a few seconds and waits for her to elaborate with raised eyebrows. "Every morning, I read Lima's Voice while having breakfast. My dad used to read the Economy pages and give me the rest; he said it was important to be aware of all the events happening in our town and now I can't get rid of the habit. Not that I want to, because it's a really good habit, but it just, sometimes it reminds me of him and I don't know how I feel about it, but I still read it anyways…"

As much as Quinn's nervous rambling is utterly endearing for Rachel, she wonders if the whole thing has a point. "That's definitely a nice habit, indeed," she nods slowly.

Quinn looks up at her finally and rolls her eyes_. 'Way to make a fool of yourself, Fabray.' _"I just… I read this article; it said something about Lima's Community Theatre celebrating the fifty years anniversary of its inauguration… and I think I remember it saying something about a play, uhm… I think it was the Phantom of the Opera and… I guess I just, kinda, thought of you." Quinn stops, changing her weight from one foot to the other._ 'Oh god, just, just spit it. Out. Just say it. You've come this far. Just ask her.'_

Rachel bites her lip anxiously, mentally cheering on the girl to finally ask her. Come on Quinn, I'm going to say yes! She thinks.

"I mean, it- it reminded me of you because you like musicals and- and Phantom of the Opera is like, one of the most epic ones, so I was wondering if- if maybe…"

"Yes!" Rachel says a little too over-enthusiastic but she doesn't really care.

Quinn smiles crookedly. "You didn't even know what I'm going to ask you."

"You're going to ask me if I want to go with you to tomorrow's play at eight." Rachel beams at her. "And I'm going to say yes."

"How did you…?"

"See? This is just more proof for you that I am, in fact, psychic."

Quinn squints her eyes playfully. "Or proof that you also read the newspaper."

Rachel mock-gasps. "How did you know?"

Quinn chuckles making Rachel's stomach flutter pleasantly.

"So you wanna go with me?" The usually confident cheerleader asks, like she somehow got it wrong.

"Yes. I expect you to pick me up tomorrow at seven thirty sharp," Rachel nods. Then in a rush of courage and confidence, she adds. "It's a date."

'_Wait a minute, did she really-' _ "A d- are you sure?" Quinn asks looking completely dumbfounded.

"Absolutely." Rachel bites her lip before stepping close to the hazel-eyed girl and reaching up to kiss her cheek sweetly, savoring the proximity and Quinn's scent that envelopes her and makes her mind dizzy like a drug. "See you tomorrow, Quinn."

'_She just- I can't- this is- Rachel just- I have a- with Rachel- I just- she said yes- and we are- holy shit.' _"Okay," is all Quinn manages to squeak through her internal meltdown, the word going unheard by the tiny, beautiful brunette that is currently walking down her street with a little spring in her step.

* * *

**So tell me what you think. Next chapter will be the date and a lot of progression in their relationship will happen. Also we will know what happens with Brittana.**


	7. Chapter 7

**There we go! Not as long as you are used to, but this is really what we all (me included) have been waiting for.**

**Thank you for being patient and please know that even if it takes time, I won't give up this story until it's over.**

_**Disclaimer: I do not own Glee or any of its characters.**_

* * *

"No, no, no, no!" Rachel huffs as she throws skirt after skirt on her bed. Her room looks like a tornado just passed through it; the Berry Tornado. "Why can't I have fashionable clothes? Why isn't there anything without an animal embroidered on it?"

She stomps her foot on the floor and crosses her arms looking at the ceiling. She really needs to calm down and choose an outfit if she wants to be ready in time for her date with Quinn.

God_, her date with Quinn._ When everything started and she found out for the first time Quinn liked her, she never imagined she'd be this nervous. She can read her mind, for Barbra's sake! She has such a great advantage. But still, the butterflies in her stomach and the way her heart is beating in her throat prove that Quinn Fabray can leave her like a nervous wreck even with this advantage.

A soft knock followed by her Daddy's voice comes through the door. Rachel calls him in.

"Honey, are you okay? I thought I heard you…" Leroy takes the state of the room in for the first time and blinks unbelievingly. His daughter is always so organized that it doesn't suit her. "What happened here?"

"Nothing Daddy. I just happened to realize that I have no fashion sense whatsoever and I just can't believe I never tried to fix this." Rachel plops on her bed and pouts. "And now I have no time to go buy anything and Quinn is going to be here in a few and she won't want to go out with me anymore because I only own stupid sweaters with stupid owls on it. Who ever thought an owl was an appropriate design for a sweater?"

'_Quinn who?'_ Leroy seems lost for a minute. "Wait, but you love those sweaters! You always have, since you were 5 and stated that you were old enough to decide your clothing and made Dad and I watch that Power Point about self expression!"

"Well I don't like them anymore! And neither does Quinn! She always made that clear when she was still hostile to me, it's not going to change now only because she has stopped repressing her feelings for me."

"Wait, Quinn? As in the daughter of the Fabrays?" Leroy was more confused with each passing minute.

"Yes, Daddy, that very one. Please refrain from reminding me how she used to treat me or warning me about her old ways, because you don't have the insight to the beautiful individual that she really is. Her once burning hatred towards me seems to be just misplaced passion. She has changed and she seems to have finally embraced her true feelings toward me, feelings that happen to be romantic."

"I see…" Leroy takes a seat next to his daughter, trying to take all the new information in. _'Looks like the old tale of the 4__th__ grade school kid with a crush pulling at the girl's ponytails.'_

Rachel nods at his thought absent-mindedly. "Quinn finally asked me on a date yesterday after we went running and now I can't find anything suitable to wear. I can't go with my usual clothes and have her repulsed and I can't go naked either because it would only scare her off. This date is doomed and can only end in disaster, Daddy." She suddenly turns to the man with an accusatory look. "Why didn't you ever instill some fashion sense into me? Aren't gay men supposed to be experts in that field?"

"I- I- I'm sorry?"

"As you should be." Rachel stands with a huff and starts picking out random clothes again, mumbling something about "stupid, false stereotypes" under her breath. Her Daddy watches her still a little dumbfounded by all the new information that has been dropped into him in just a few minutes. His mind is reeling with questions, _'Since when is she gay? Bisexual? Fluid? Uhm, I don't think Rachel would appreciate being labelled; after all, we have taught her that love is love. But this Quinn girl… should we be worried? She bullied her to tears more than once. Sure it wasn't only her and Rachel has always been strong enough to stand up to her but still… Maybe I should have a chat with this Quinn girl. Yes, it should be me, Hiram would scare the girl off and if she's a reformed closet lesbian bully… well I understand that. I've seen it so many times before. She might deserve a second chance.'_

Rachel ignores his train of thought in favor of trying to combine the perfect outfit with the acceptable skirt she just found. It's blue, simple and short, but Quinn always liked her legs didn't she? She smiles at the thought when suddenly her phone rings. Her caller ID says it's the reason of her distress.

"Hi, Quinn," she greets a little out of breath.

"Rachel," Quinn blurts out, like she's surprised the girl picked up the phone. "Uhm, I was just calling to check- to see if- uh, if we are still on for today?"

Rachel frowns. "Of course, Quinn. Why wouldn't we?"

"Oh, n-no reason. I was just making sure. I'll be there in a couple hours then."

"Oh, Quinn?" Rachel blurts out.

"Yeah?"

"W-what are you... what are you going to wear?" She shuts her eyes, praying for Quinn not to think it's a weird question.

"Uhm, well, this green and beige dress and a jacket. Why?" Quinn asks curiously.

"No reason." Rachel avoids her question, just like Quinn did before.

"Okay. I'll see you later Rach." She can hear Quinn's smile.

"Later, Quinn."

The brunette hangs up with a smile of her own playing on her lips, part from Quinn's obvious nervousness (which makes her feel a little less alone) and part from the fact that Quinn called her Rach.

"Well, if she hasn't calmed you with a simple call. I'm impressed," Leroy says, actually impressed. _'This Quinn girl must be something else._' Rachel rolls her eyes at him.

"I was perfectly calm before, Daddy. Now if you'll excuse me, I think I found the perfect attire."

Leroy makes a zipping motion on his lips before scurrying out of the room with a fleeting thought of _'Girls. I'm so glad I'm gay, men are way less complicated.'_

Rachel ends up getting ready in time and even with half an hour to kill. She decides to call Britt to update her on the latest developments of her and Quinn's relationship. She would call Santana too, but the girl has been ignoring all calls all weekend.

"What's the sitch?" Brittany asks happily when she picks up.

"What?" Rachel asks amused.

"I was watching Kim Possible and thought it was funny. So, what's up?"

"Oh nothing, I'm just here putting on some lipgloss while I wait for Quinn to pick me up for our date."

Rachel waits with her lip trapped between her teeth for the information to sink in. She winces when she hears a screech.

"No way!" Brittany gushes. "No way! She asked you on a date? Oh my gosh! When?"

Rachel's beam threatens to split her face in two. "Yesterday. We went running in the morning and she tripped and sprained her ankle-"

Britt gasps. "Is she okay?"

"Yes, I took care of her."

"I bet you did," Brittany sing songs making her blush furiously.

"Mind out of the gutter, Britt! I just helped her walk home and put some ice on it. Anyways, she was thinking the whole time about confessing how she feels and about…" she catches herself before mentioning Santana, "about how people don't go for what they want for fear of rejection so I dropped some subtle hints, pushed her a little in the right direction and she finally asked me out."

"Aw, that's so cute!" Brittany sighs dreamily. "Where are you going?"

"That's the best part," Rachel gushes excited. "We're going to see The Phantom of the Opera; it was so thoughtful of her. Finn never brought me to any musical and everyone knows how much I love them!"

"Yeah, Quinn can surprise you like that. She doesn't seem like it but she's super thoughtful. She always keeps a few spare pompons hidden in the locker room because I always lose mine and coach would get mad if she knew."

Rachel's heart swells a little. "That's so sweet of her."

"Yeah." Brittany is silent for a second. "And now you're going to get her sweet lady kisses."

"Britt!" Rachel squeaks, her blush coming back full-force. The blonde giggles like a maniac and Rachel pouts. Just then, the door bell rings.

"I have to go, I think Quinn is here."

"Good luck!" Brittany exclaims just before Rachel hangs up with a short "Bye!"

She checks herself on the mirror one last time, nodding at the final selection of her clothes: the navy-blue, simple skirt, a pale yellow polo, a gray cardigan and yellow flats. She hopes Quinn will like it.

When she reaches the front door, her Daddy is already standing in front of a wide-eyed Quinn and Rachel catches the end of Leroy's sentence. "…you will behave like a lady and this is not some scheme you prepared. I trust my daughter when she says you have changed."

"No sir. I mean, this is not any scheme, I assure you." Quinn stands her ground, even though Rachel can see _and hear_ she's a little intimidated.

Leroy cocks his eyebrow amused. _'She is definitely a Fabray,'_ he muses internally.

"Well, that's enough Daddy. You have said your piece." Rachel says scolding. "Now go to your room and think of what you did." She turns to Quinn with a beam. "Shall we go?"

Quinn looks between her and the amused man who finally steps back, but not without sending Quinn a pointed look.

'_You hurt my daughter and I'll go find you, blondie,'_ Rachel hears before closing the door behind her.

"Sorry about that," Rachel sighs. "He's a little overprotective."

"It's understandable. If the girl who had been bullying my daughter for years showed up at my door asking for her, I'd be a little suspicious too."

"But you're different, Quinn," Rachel explains. She looks at Quinn's hazel eyes intently and smiles. "I trust you."

'_God, I just arrived and she's already threatening to make my heart explode. It's not fair!' _Quinn swallows and looks down blushing. _'Come on, Fabray, don't be stupid. Remember what you decided before coming.'_

Rachel wonders what the girl is thinking about. "Come on." She turns and makes her way to Quinn's car. The blonde follows closely and when Rachel reaches her door, she stops.

'_Should I open her door? No, no, no, Fabray, that's too date-y! But she looks like she's waiting for it… Don't be a moron she's waiting for you to unlock the car.' _Rachel looks back at her questioningly. Quinn smiles nervously and runs to her side of the car, unlocks it and jumps inside.

"Uhm, let's go then," Quinn mumbles awkwardly. "You can turn on the radio if you want." Rachel does just that.

'_Okay, you're fine. Just as long as you remember that this is not a date, date, you'll be fine.'_ Rachel freezes with her hand on the radio. What is Quinn thinking now? Didn't she make it clear enough that this was a date?

The blonde looks at her out of the corner of her eye but quickly averts her eyes when Rachel catches her. _'Jesus, she looks so pretty. And that skirt… oh lord.' _Quinn shakes her head. _'Don't do anything stupid, Fabray. Like tell her she looks pretty or something. Just… shut it. You don't want to scare her off opening doors and saying stuff like that.'_

Rachel bites her lip to stop herself before telling Quinn she's the one that looks beautiful. Rachel always loved Quinn's dresses.

'_I mean it's clear that she agreed to come with you on this "date" because it's a musical.' _Quinn continues her internal musings as they make their way to the theatre with Rachel listening closely. '_And let's face it, she might have called it a date but you know she meant two friends going together somewhere. She's Rachel Berry, for God's sake! She's affectionate and too friendly for her own good and you are just a girl who used to make her life a living hell; she wouldn't go on a date with you.'_

They stop at a red light and Quinn glances at Rachel quickly, sending her a small smile.

'_What were you even thinking yesterday? You are delusional, Fabray,' _Quinn scolds herself. _'How would she know about your feelings? How would she accept a date that came out of nowhere? You've never given any hint of your feelings, she couldn't know. Of course she accepted your offer of going out! She thought you wanted to go out as friends!'_

Rachel bites her lip, preventing herself from saying something she might regret later.

It makes sense, she thinks, that Quinn doubts about her intentions, because for Quinn, they have been friends this past month and no other feelings have been shown. Rachel feels like she's been the only one reading the subtitles of a very complicated movie. How would Quinn know her feelings are not unrequited? How would Quinn know Rachel is aware of her feelings? The brunette has been using her power to her advantage all this time, acting according to Quinn's secret desires but never really giving any sign that she felt the same way. She figures her conversation with Quinn the other morning at Quinn's place could have been misunderstood; after all, they were talking about Santana in the first place. How could Quinn be sure she was talking about her, too? It led Quinn to a conclusion: accepting a real date was too out of place so Rachel must have thought it was a friendly meeting.

Well this sucks, Rachel thinks.

"Here we are." Quinn unbuckles her seat belt and Rachel follows quietly, still thinking of a way, a less subtle, blunter way, of making Quinn see. God, she just wants Quinn to realize without discovering her secret, is that so hard?

'_God, this is so awkward. We're not even talking! This is clearly not a date, she just came here to see the show. And to think you wanted to pay for her ticket, yeah right.'_

Rachel hmphs quietly; Quinn can be so negative. "Here let me," she cut in front of Quinn on the queue and without letting the girl protest, she addresses to the woman on the ticket office. "Two please."

"Wait-" Quinn tries.

"Thank you very much." Rachel smiles her mega-watt smile to the woman as she pays, ignoring Quinn's bewildered thoughts. "Come on, I want to get good seats." With that, Rachel reaches for Quinn's hands and pulls her into the darkened theatre.

If Quinn needs more signs, she'll have them, Rachel thinks as she keeps the blonde's hand in a firm grasp. They find a suitable place to sit and only then does Rachel drop her hand. Quinn is still a little shocked from the last turn of events.

'_She paid for the tickets? Why did she do that? I guess it's her own way of saying thanks for taking her here.' _

Rachel wants to groan out loud. You'd think Quinn Fabray would be more confident about herself and her power on other people but it looks like what Quinn shows and what goes on inside her head are two completely different universes. Rachel has also realized Quinn seems to be more insecure when it comes to her than with anyone else.

"Are you- have you seen this production before?" Quinn asks in an attempt to break the tense silence that they had been carrying since Rachel's house. _'It's my fault. If I hadn't had these stupid expectations… We've been getting along so well all this time and now I go and make a big deal out of nothing. I have no right to sulk about it... better enjoy what I can have.'_

"No, never!" Rachel answers excited. "I've seen the movie, though. Have you?"

"Nope."

"You'll love it." The lights start to flicker and Rachel makes a shushing sound even though no one was talking. Quinn giggles.

'_Maybe this is not so bad after all. I'm here with Rachel, maybe not in the way I would like, but she's still Rachel, right? That is kind of enough for me.'_

Rachel looks at her with shiny eyes and Quinn smiles tentatively.

"I'm glad I'm here with you," she says with so much sincerity Quinn is taken aback. But the show starts and Rachel's attention is diverted to the stage and Quinn is left watching Rachel's profile in awe for the rest of it.

…

"It was so romantic, wasn't it?" Rachel gushes as they walk out of the theatre. She clings to Quinn's arm, stilling buzzing with excitement from the show.

"Yeah, it was beautiful," Quinn mumbles as she watches the adorable girl that is attached to her arm. _'God, she's so cute. I wish we didn't drive here so we could walk like this to her house.'_

"Hey, do you want to go for a walk?"

Quinn stops dead in her tracks. "How do you do that?"

Rachel plays dumb. "Do what?"

'_Shit, did I say that out loud?' _"Uhm, nothing… I was just thinking of how tonight was a perfect night for a walk and you just kind of read my mind."

Rachel knows she's being too careless, that it must be weird for Quinn to have all her wishes come true, but she just can't find it in herself to care; she just wants to make Quinn happy.

"Great! Let's go then."

They round the block and walk through the quiet streets of Lima. They walk by a few stores, noticing the early Christmas decorations. They stop in front of Quinn's favourite bakery, where she points out to Rachel the delicious things to try through the shop window. Rachel takes notes. There's a young man walking his dog and Rachel stops a minute to scratch the Labrador behind its hears. She engages in a small talk with him about the playful animal. The man smiles at them when they walk away and Rachel quickly puts her arm around Quinn's again.

It's a chilly night and Rachel snuggles closer into Quinn's side. The blonde's heartbeat picks up pace.

"Uhm, we should go. School tomorrow," Quinn says stupidly.

"Yeah."

They walk quietly to her car and get inside without another word.

'_Maybe… maybe it _is _a date? That walk was pretty date-y to me… But Rachel has always been very affectionate…'_ Quinn fumbles with the radio a little forcefully. _'God, stop thinking about it! Didn't you decide you wouldn't get your hopes high again? Didn't you decide you would take what you can have?'_

Rachel listens and frowns. This just can't do.

They park in front of the Berry's residence and Quinn fumbles with her fingers on her lap. _'Last hope, here we go.'_ "Do you… do you want me to walk you to your door?"

"No."

The word hits Quinn square on her heart. Rachel watches as her face contorts in hurt and quickly tries to hide it. "Oh, okay." _'Well, there you have it Fabray, doubt solved.'_

"No, Quinn, you don't get it," Rachel explains. "I don't want you to, because my dads might see."

"Oh, right." The blonde swallows dryly. _'Her dads hate me, I forgot.'_

"You still don't get it."

"Get what?" Quinn asks, confused and hurt, and really, she just wants to go home and cry.

But Rachel doesn't answer. She just reaches out and cups Quinn's cheek with her hand and turns her face. Quinn looks devastated. She smiles sweetly and leans forward until Quinn has to cross her eyes to look at Rachel's.

'_What is she-'_

But her thought is cut off by the lightest of pressures against her lips. Rachel just stays there, lips grazing against Quinn's, enjoying the softness, the velvety texture until she grows bold and applies a little more pressure against them.

Quinn reacts immediately. She kisses back firmly, opening her lips just a bit to capture Rachel's plump, bottom one between hers, something she has been dreaming of doing since forever. Rachel moans in the back of her throat softly. She sneaks the hand that is holding Quinn's cheek to the back of her neck and pulls her in, her mouth opening and her tongue getting the first taste of Quinn's, immediately getting addicted.

Quinn breathes hard through her nose as Rachel's tongue grazes hers. Her mind is completely blank; there's a sound similar to static that flows into Rachel's mind and makes her dizzy. Their tongues dance against one another, slowly, with a purpose, like two strangers meeting for the first time and feeling that immediate connection. Rachel's playful nature shows and she flicks at Quinn's tongue with the tip of hers, earning a moan from the blonde and a smirk of her own.

She pecks Quinn's lips a few more times, chastely, as her thumb grazes against Quinn's jaw bone gently and then she finally leans back. But not too far; she keeps her eyes fixated on dark hazel ones and her hand on Quinn's neck.

"Okay?" Rachel asks hoarsely.

Quinn stares at her in wonder; the worry, the anxiety, the sadness that has been on her face since she picked Rachel up, finally disappearing. And then she swallows and nods.

"Okay."

…

Monday morning Rachel wakes up with a blinding smile on her face. She turns on her iPod, which appropriately starts blasting Good Day Sunshine by The Beatles and opens her window with a dramatic pull.

"Good Day Sunshine! Good Day Sunshine!" She sings to the street and the birds on her tree and her neighbours and the mailman, who looks at her, amused, and to whoever wants to hear. "I need to laugh, and when the sun is out, I've got something I can laugh about," she closes her eyes and smiles, like the sun has raised this morning specially for her. "I feel good, in a special way. I'm in love and it's a sunny day."

She freezes mid song with her eyes wide open. "Wait what?"

…

Rachel smiles shyly at Quinn when the girl passes by her on the hall, followed by Brittany and a little Cheerios escort.

'_There she is!'_ Quinn thinks happily. _'Act cool, Fabray.'_ She winks at the brunette who blushes to the tips of her ears.

A millisecond later, the blonde's expression is a mask of indifference again as she struts past her, hands on her hips and down the hall.

Rachel doesn't see Quinn again until lunch. She's sitting with Mercedes, Tina and Kurt now that she can't sit with Brittany and Santana because… well, because Santana is nowhere to be seen and Brittany is sitting with Quinn and some other Cheerios at the "popular" table with the jocks.

Brittany doesn't seem pleased with this; she keeps staring longingly at the empty space and checking the front door, Rachel guesses, looking for Santana. Quinn looks like she's fighting herself to stop from glancing at their table, but she still does a couple times; each time, her eyes find Rachel's and the brunette can't help but smile and avert her eyes to her salad.

"Girl, are you smiling to your salad?" Mercedes asks amused.

Rachel only rolls her eyes.

"No, actually," Kurt says pointedly, "what's up with you? You've been smiley all day and… well, _quiet_. No offense, but usually you are a chatterbox. I haven't heard you talk that little since you had Laryngitis and _then_, you were sulking."

Rachel gapes at him. "I'm not a chatterbox! I resent that accusation! Just because I like to express myself with proper words and complex sentences, doesn't mean what I say lacks of importance!"

'_Well, there she is,'_ Mercedes thinks with a sigh.

"Anyways," Kurt cuts her before she can go on, "what's got you so happy?"

"Nothing that could be considered your business." She returns her gaze to her plate.

Tina and Mercedes give each other a look while Kurt stares at her with his "judging you" face on.

"Oh, come on. Aren't you going to tell us?" He huffs. "We are your friends, right?"

"Yeah, Rach, friends tell each other stuff," Tina ads. _'Gossip alert!'_

Rachel huffs and unconsciously glances to Quinn's table. Of course, her friends catch it.

"Is it Finn?" Mercedes gasps. Kurt's eyes widen. "Oh my God, it's Finn, right? You forgave him and you're back again with the big child."

"It's not Finn," Rachel says curtly. He is not, he won't be, ever again.

"Puck?" Tina asks surprised.

"Why does it have to be about a b-"

'_No way! It's Sam! Un-fucking-believable! I bet he was gay! Aw, I liked him…' _Kurt muses.

"Guys, it's not Finn, not Puck and not Sam, so just- just stop it," Rachel says sternly. She knows they are not bad people, but at this moment, they are just fishing for gossip.

"Alright, jeez, sorry." Kurt holds up his hand defensive. _'As long as she stays away from Ken…'_

"So…" Mercedes says, "did you guys hear that Stacy… the nerdy girl from the AV club? Rumor mail has it she's sleeping with half the football team."

"No way. She looked so prude!" Tina whispers as Kurt nods.

Rachel sighs. She really misses her lunches with Brittany and Santana.

After class and a quick visit to Mr. Schue with a list of recommended songs for Sectionals that they should consider tomorrow at practice, Rachel is walking towards her car when she hears familiar voices a few cars away. Peaking over the car next to hers, she spots Santana- who Rachel has only seen a flash of all day- talking quietly with Puck who's leaning on his truck and looking at the ground seriously.

Rachel strains to hear what they say, then tries to hear their thoughts but she can only hear an indistinct buzz and figures she's too far away. She settles for watching their expressions instead, telling herself that she's not being nosy or creepy, that the fact that she's kind of making a habit of eavesdropping only means she's curious and worried for the well-being of her peers which makes her a great friend.

She mentally pats herself on the back.

Puck is nodding slowly to whatever Santana is saying while the Latina shifts her gaze from him, to the sky, to the ground and shuffles her feet awkwardly on the floor. Rachel realizes it's almost… endearing.

Suddenly Puck looks up and smiles at Santana and with a final nod, he reaches out and pulls the brunette to him, giving her a short-lived hug because the fiery Latina soon pushes him off of her, then punches him on the shoulder playfully.

Santana leaves seconds later and Puck stands there, scratching the back of his neck and not really taking the initiative to get into his truck. Rachel approaches him.

"Hey."

"Oh, hey my hot little Jewish-American princess," Puck says looking up. Rachel rolls her eyes.

"You think you are really cute, don't you Puckerman?"

"I know I am, babe." He opens his arms, like he's showing her all his cuteness. She snorts playfully.

"So, I just saw you talking with Santana and I couldn't help but wonder what was it that had you acting so sentimental," Rachel teases.

'_Shit man, now you look like a fucking pussy.'_ Puck shuffles awkwardly, not comfortable with the idea of anyone realizing the good boy under the badass façade.

"It's okay Noah, I won't tell." She reaches out, touching his arm gently.

"Yeah, well she was kinda bummed so, I figured a hug was the way to go. Tried to cop a feel too but she punched me."

Rachel laughs. "What was she bummed about?"

"Dunno. She didn't tell me. She just told me we couldn't keep having sex, which sucks but whatever, I'll live."

"She told you that?"

"Yup," he bobs his head, crossing his arms. "Didn't give me a reason, only that she was hurting someone and she couldn't keep doing it. Some chick drama."

"Finally," Rachel breathes with a sigh.

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. I'm uh…" she taps him on the shoulder awkwardly, "not sure what is the proper friend etiquette for when your friend's not-really-girlfriend breaks up their pseudo-relationship based only on physical interaction but, ah, I'm sorry."

He shrugs. "Hey, it's all good. The Puckasaurus has other options in his repertoire." _'Mostly this really plus size, hot girl from the AV Club, dayum…'_

Rachel rolls her eyes. "I'm going to ignore your womanizing ways and congratulate you on the proper use of the word 'repertoire'. It was appreciated and duly noted."

It's time for Puck to laugh. "You do that, babe. I gotta go." He climbs into his truck. "See you tomorrow, Berry!"

…

_Guess what._

_**What?**_

_You have to guess silly._

_**How would I do that? I don't even have a hint!**_

_It's a good thing._

_**Barbra Streisand called you and told you she wanted you to perform on her birthday.**_

_No, Quinn. Not even close. Although that will be definitely a good thing._

_**Will be?**_

_Yes, when it happens. Now guess._

_**I have no idea, Rach. Honestly.**_

_Oh, alright…_

"Yes?" Quinn answers amused.

"You are a terrible guesser."

"I know. I'm so ashamed of myself," the blonde sounds everything but sorry.

"You think you are funny."

"I know you are smiling, don't even try to deny it."

Rachel huffs and not for the first time, curses Quinn and her charm.

"Whatever, do you want me to tell you the news or not?"

"Please do."

Rachel smiles excited, leaning back on the headboard of her bed. "Santana has ended her affair with Noah."

"What?"

"Yes, she did. She went up to him and told him that she was done with their strictly physical pseudo-relationship and that their fling was over because she was hurting someone she cared deeply for."

"Santana said that?"

"Maybe not with those words…" she can almost hear Quinn rolling her eyes.

"Well, fucking finally."

"I know."

They fall into a comfortable silence and Rachel plays with a lock of her hair. It's weird to not hear Quinn think, like a trip to the past when she couldn't hear the blonde's most secret desires.

"What do you think will happen now?" Quinn asks quietly, almost in a whisper.

"I don't know. I hope they will finally be together. They are really made for each other."

"Do you really think so?"

"Yeah."

"It will be hard," Quinn says with a little tremble in her voice.

"Maybe," Rachel closes her eyes and sighs, "but love always prevails, right?"

…

It's not unexpected to see Santana at Rachel's locker the next morning but it still surprises her a little.

"Hey," Santana greets softly.

"Santana, it's good- it's good to see you again."

The Latina gives her a tiny smile that quickly disappears as she looks at her feet.

"Yeah, about that…" she fumbles a little with the strap of her backpack. Rachel waits patiently; she knows Santana is not good with feelings and all that has been happening must be hard for her. "I- I was… I needed some time to think and stuff. So… yeah…" _'I'm sorry.'_

Rachel fights the urge to hug her, deciding on putting a hand on her forearm and squeezing. "It's fine." Santana smiles, grateful. "Have you talked with…?"

"Yeah. And she- she just nodded and told me she needed to think," Santana says pained. "I- God, I did everything she wanted! I went to Puck and told him it was over and- and then I told her that I," she looks around to see if someone is listening, hushing the next part for Rachel only to hear, "that I loved her, always did. And she just freaking nodded and left."

Rachel can see the tears gathering in her friend's eyes and she bites her lip worriedly.

"She'll come around, Santana. You hurt her a lot, it's only natural that she needs time to gather her feelings now." Santana sniffs and looks down, nodding to herself. "Look, I don't want to make you feel worse, but you have to accept that you kind of deserve it."

The Latina looks up, indignant. Rachel gives her a pointed look.

'_Yeah, I guess you're right…'_

"But she's Brittany. She'll forgive you; she always does."

"I don't want her to forgive me just because, though. I want her to realize that I- that I _do_ love her."

Rachel thinks about it for a second before a small smile finds its way to her face. Santana looks at her confused. _'The hell are you thinking Berry?'_

"I have the perfect idea."

…

As the first notes of the piano flow through the room, everyone's attention falls completely onto the girl sitting on the stool, alone, ready to pour her heart out. Rachel sends her a curt nod and Santana takes a deep breath. _'Here it goes.'_

"For you, there'll be no more crying. For you the sun will be shining," Santana sings, her eyes bright with unshed tears, "and I feel that when I'm with you, it's all right. I know it's right."

Rachel glances at the blonde sitting next to her, blue eyes watching in wonder at Santana. She smiles to herself, then to the Latina, encouragingly.

"To you, I'll give the world. To you, I'll never be cold." Brown eyes meet blue with an intensity that leaves the audience gasping for air. "'Cause I feel that when I'm with you, it's all right. I know it's right."

Brittany sniffles a little and Rachel can see her own tears threatening to spill. She looks over at Quinn, who's sitting a row below them, next to Mercedes and her heart skips a bit when she catches the hazel eyes looking back at her intently. She has to avert her eyes.

"And the songbirds are singing, like they know the score." Rachel holds her breath, as do all those who know the lyrics of this song. "And I love you, I love you, I love you, like never before."

Rachel feels Brittany take a deep breath next to her.

"And I wish you all the love in the world, but most of all, I wish it from myself."

Rachel can hear a few sniffles around the room as Santana ends her song.

"And the songbirds keep singing, like they know the score. And I love you, I love you, I love you, like never before."

Brad holds the last note with one hand while he discreetly wipes a tear from his cheek. Everyone stands still, holding their breath as Santana stares at Brittany, looking the most vulnerable anyone has ever seen her.

Rachel bites her lip as Brittany just sits there, staring at her hands, until she finally looks up at the Latina. _'Does she really mean it?' _Britt thinks. Rachel gives her a slight push, whispering, "Why don't you ask her?" The blonde finally stands and makes her way towards Santana.

"Is that really how you feel?"

Santana gives her a watery smile as she stands from her stool. "Yeah," she nods.

In a heartbeat, Brittany throws herself at the Latina, who quickly responds to the hug; a relieved and utterly happy expression on her face, before she hides it on the blonde's neck. Everyone starts clapping.

Rachel beams at the couple and looks around to see emotional faces, smiles, some tears (even from those who she would have never imagined; Puck? Really? Aw, that softie.). She looks at Quinn, who's still staring at her, with her lip trapped between her teeth.

'_Why haven't we talked about it yet? Am I reading too much into it? What does it mean for her?' _Are Quinn's fleeting thoughts. Rachel wants to hear more but her attention is diverted to the couple at the front when Santana talks again.

"B, do you- do you forgive me?"

Brittany leans back to look at her in the eye and smiles one of her toothy smiles. "Of course I do, silly. I love you."

And then Santana laughs and cries and kisses her all at the same time and the Glee Club has never been a happier place.

…

"What the hell, Berry?" Is the first thing Rachel hears when she picks up her phone that night.

"What did I do?" Rachel asks confused.

"Really? You don't know? You didn't forget to tell me something, perhaps? Something, like, I don't know, like _that you and Q went out on a date_?"

Rachel breathes out in relief. "Oh that."

"Yes that. I had to find out through Brittany! I thought we…"

Rachel smiles to herself. "Aw, Santana… you care about me!" She coos. Santana, on the other end of the line, is not amused. "I'm sorry I didn't tell you, it's just- I was too worried with your song and Britt and… I wanted you to patch things up first."

There's a silence followed by a sigh. "Okay, whatever. But you better tell me every dirty detail tomorrow."

"Tomorrow? Why not now?"

"I'm… uh… kind of busy now."

Rachel pauses for a second. "Hi Britt."

"Hi Rach!" The blonde greets happily. "Thanks for helping S with her song. It was really sweet."

"I'm just happy you both are happy."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever. Look we'll talk tomorrow. It's been a long time and I wants to get my mack on."

Rachel rolls her eyes.

"Don't listen to her, she loves me," Britt says.

"Bye, Berry."

"Bye, guys."

…

Rachel sits alone at her lunch table. Brittany and Santana were there a minute ago, but they claimed to have something to do and left without much explanation. She guesses that _something_ involves way less clothing than what would be considered appropriate in a school cafeteria.

The diva is happy for her friends, really, _really _happy, but she hopes the honeymoon phase won't be too long; she hates eating alone.

'…_you can do this, Fabray,' _Rachel hears right before a tray with food is placed next to her on the table, followed by a blonde cheerleader.

"Hi, Quinn."

Quinn doesn't acknowledge her, just sits there, her gaze fixed on her tray. _'Just come clean, say your piece and let her take the next step. This is crazy, you can't go on like this. Things need to be out there. Out. There.'_

"Quinn, is there something you w-"

"I like you," Quinn cuts her off, still looking down. "A lot. Like, I just can't, for the love of God, stop thinking about you. _Like you_, as in I want to hold your hand and kiss you silly, like you."

Rachel takes a deep breath. It's one thing to hear it in Quinn's thoughts; those light echoes that, although holding so much truth, aren't anything like what Quinn is saying right now. Words. Out loud. Confessions.

"So, there." Quinn glances at her for a fleeting second.

"Okay," Rachel manages to say, barely containing her excitement.

"Okay," Quinn answers.

"Do you want to come over after class?"

"Yes," the blonde blurts almost immediately. Rachel can't hold her beam back anymore. She catches Quinn's lips quirking a little.

"Okay," she breathes. Quinn finally looks up at her through her eyelashes.

"Okay."

* * *

**I would love to know your opinions guys. Next chapter, Sectionals.**


	8. Chapter 8

**Alrighty, here I am with the new installment. Just so you know, this is full of fluffy goodness and is nearing the M rating. But you know what they say, the calm comes before the storm...**

**This chapter is dedicated to ddizzle-swagron on Tumblr for being awesome on a daily basis. Also speshul thanks to imagine-me on Tumblr for editing it. 3**

**Disclaimer: I don't own Glee or the characters.**

* * *

_"I like you," Quinn cuts her off, still looking down. "A lot. Like, I just can't, for the love of God, stop thinking about you. Like you, as in I want to hold your hand and kiss you silly, like you."_

_Rachel takes a deep breath. It's one thing to hear it in Quinn's thoughts; those light echoes that, although holding so much truth, aren't anything like what Quinn is saying right now. Words. Out loud. Confessions._

_"So, there." Quinn glances at her for a fleeting second._

_"Okay," Rachel manages to say, barely containing her excitement._

_"Okay," Quinn answers._

_"Do you want to come over after class?"_

_"Yes," the blonde blurts almost immediately. Rachel can't hold her beam back anymore. She catches Quinn's lips quirking a little._

_"Okay," she breathes. Quinn finally looks up at her through her eyelashes._

_"Okay."_

_..._

_Rachel f_eels the vibrations on her seat as the bus driver starts the engine. She watches Mr Schue walk the aisle up and down, looking around and mentally counting the occupied seats to make sure no one is missing.

"Alright so, do you guys have everything you need for the ride?" There's a collective 'yes' and the teacher claps his hands. "Okay, then we're good to go." He motions for the driver who pulls out and goes to sit, but turns at the last moment to say, "And please behave. The ride to Columbus is not too long but don't make me ground you…" everyone looks at him strangely, "or something."

Rachel sighs and relaxes back on her seat as the bus makes its way to the highway. She watches the trees and houses pass by, humming softly to herself, until she can't help it anymore and glances to the empty seat at her right. She then subtly looks over the back of her seat and at Quinn, who's sitting at the very end with Mercedes and Kurt and a magazine on her lap, chatting animatedly with her friends.

Just as if the blonde notices it, she snaps her head up and catches the brown eyes looking back at her and a slow smile grows on her face. _'She wants me to sit with her,' _Rachel hears her looks over at Mercedes and Kurt, before back at the brunette with an apologetic smile and mouthing "later". _'It'd be a little suspicious to sit with her so soon, right? Better be safe than sorry.'_

Rachel nods subtly before turning her attention back to the passing scenario outside the window and lets her mind swim in memories of these past couple of weeks, a warmth settling on her stomach at the thought.

_Quinn told Rachel that she'd be at her place after practice, but didn't exactly specify how long that'd be, leaving Rachel to sit nervously on her bed, her back straight and her ears trying to pick out any sign of the cheerleader's car._

_She finally decided__ to change into something more comfortable to pass the time- a pair of yoga pants and one of her Dad's old NYU sweatshirts, a couple sizes too big for her, but still her favourite for cold nights like that, when her fathers were out and she was feeling cuddly and in need of comfort. Rachel cursed Murphy's Law when, halfway through slipping on the pants, the doorbell rang. She tripped when her foot got stuck in the pant leg, in the haste of reaching the door and cursed herself when, almost all the way down the stairs, she realized she was in her bra only. _

"_I'm coming! One second!" _

_She run back up and threw the sweater on, wasting three seconds to check herself in the mirror and smooth her hair down and then another impressive three more to run back down. It was a personal record._

"_Quinn. Hi," she answered the door, completely out of breath._

_Quinn raised an eyebrow confused. "Are you okay?"_

"_Hmh? Oh yeah, yep. I'm fine."_

"_Are you sure?" The blonde inspected her appearance, then glanced behind her and into the house. "Is there someone in there?" She whispered. "Blink if you are in danger."_

_Rachel's jaw dropped at what Quinn was suggesting, before she caught the telling twinkle on hazel eyes. She huffed. "Very funny, Quinn. No I am not being kidnapped in my own home. Now do you want to come in or not?"_

_Quinn chuckled. "Sure."_

_Rachel moved aside to let the blonde in. Her eyes immediately indulged in taking Quinn's appearance in. The girl was wearing her Cheerios' red sweats and varsity jacket with a white t-shirt underneath. Her hair was wet, probably from the shower she must have taken after practice and it was still dripping a little down her back, making Rachel think that she must have run here. She smiled to herself._

'Bedroom or living room?' _Quinn thought briefly._

"_Come on, let's go up to my room." Rachel lead the way up, suddenly nervous at realizing Quinn was going to see her room for the first time. She stepped inside and spun on her heels, watching Quinn's reaction closely._

_The blonde seemed to take everything in; from the yellow walls, to the four poster bed, her eyes widening slightly at the number of bedazzled stuff on her desk._

"_Cute room," she said sincerely, "I like your rug," she pointed at Rachel's piano keys rug._

_Rachel beamed. "Thank you." She started fidgeting with the hem of her sleeves and awkwardly pointed to the bed. "You can sit wherever."_

_Quinn took off her Cheerio's jacket and sit on Rachel's bed, followed by the brunette who crossed her legs and leaned against the headboard. Rachel started playing with the sleeves of her oversized sweatshirt again, not really knowing how to go from here._

'Are we supposed to talk now or…? Should I ask something?'_ Quinn pondered, leaning back on her hands and making her white shirt ride up a little, flashing Rachel glimpse of her abs. _'I mean, why would she invite me if not for talking about… _that_? She still has to tell me, right? Isn't she going to?'

_Rachel bit__ her lips at Quinn's thoughts. She never imagined the blonde could be this adorable when feeling insecure. It made her feel special._

"_So… do you want to… talk?" Quinn finally asked frowning._

"_Sure," Rachel answered easily. "What do you want to talk about?" The fake innocence of the question went unnoticed by Quinn, who frowned even deeper, her gaze falling to the bed covers for a second. Rachel knew she was being a little mean, but she kind of liked teasing Quinn._

"_I don't know… don't you- isn't there something you want to talk about?" Quinn shrugged, trying to sound casual. "Something you want to tell me?"_

"_Something like what?"_

'Like you like me too, maybe? Ugh!' _The blonde huffed. "I don't know. You'd think after what I confessed this morning you'd have something to say."_

"_You think?" She asked with a hint of a smile. She just couldn't keep it anymore. Quinn of course caught it and rolled her eyes, a blush spreading on her cheeks._

"_Jerk."_

_Rachel giggled and reached out to wrap her hand around Quinn's arm, pulling her up the bed and next to her. The blonde let herself be dragged without much resistance. She sat with her legs stretched out in front of her, her hands in her lap and her eyes on them. Rachel bumped her shoulder to catch her attention._

"_Hey," she said quietly when hazel eyes locked on hers. "In case you still haven't figured it out after all that has happened these past weeks or I didn't make it clear enough on Sunday night, I like you too."_

_Quinn looked down at her hands again, biting her lip to fight back a smile in her own cute way of keeping her cool. She nodded and took a deep breath, regaining some composure, then cleared her throat._

"_It's just, really hard to believe, you know? I mean a month ago we were barely talking to each other." She shrugged. "I think… I think I liked you since freshman year, probably sooner. I just didn't want it to be true. That's mostly why I was so mean to you." Quinn dared a glance at Rachel, who was listening to her with a curious expression, not judging or reproaching like Quinn would have expected. "I thought you hated me. I think I wanted you to hate me so it would be easier to stay away from you."_

"_I never hated you."_

"_I know," Quinn rolled her eyes. "You're just too nice."_

_Rachel shrugged, taking it as a compliment._

"_And… I don't know… I guess I feel like it comes out of nowhere that you- that you like me too. It's just hard to believe, after all these years," Quinn mumbled, her eyes still fixed on her lap, the pretty rosy tint never leaving her cheeks._

_Rachel breathed deep, feeling a pang of guilt at how badly she had been handling this whole thing, leaving Quinn in the complete dark while she controlled everything like a puppet master._

"_Quinn you are unbelievingly beautiful. You're smart, you're charming, you are a great singer- although a little sharp at times- a great athlete. You have that passion, that strength in you that just draws people in. Why wouldn't anyone like you?"_

"_Fine, maybe. But you are not just anyone."_

"_That much is true," Rachel conceded with a nod, failing to see Quinn's good-natured eye-roll. "Still, you have always intrigued me. Even when you were mean to me, I just wanted you to like me, to be my friend." This time Rachel is the one that blushed. "I had such a huge crush on you and I didn't even know it."_

"_Really?" Quinn asked a little smugly._

_Rachel dropped her head back and let it lull to the side with a small smirk. "Well, you are really hot when you're pissed and for some reason I was the only one to get that much emotion out of you."_

_Just like that the air around them seemed to shift drastically._

'I want to kiss her. Oh God, I want to kiss her so bad.' _But Quinn didn't move an inch._

"_So," Rachel said trying to sound calm, "now that we've cleared that up, what do you want to do?"_

'Kiss you,'_ Quinn thought as she shifted almost imperceptibly closer to the brunette._

"_We have a different selection of activities to partake in," Rachel continued, "movies, board games."_

'I just want to make out.'

_They kept her eyes fixed on each other with a consuming intensity. Rachel felt her mouth go dry as sandpaper and she licked her lips, Quinn following the path of her tongue with her eyes._

"_Or w-we could stay here and- and talk?"_

"_If you want," Quinn mumbled, her voice so husky it shook Rachel to the core._

"_I don't really want to talk," Rachel said and in a bold move she pushed herself to a kneeling position and straddled Quinn's lap, her hands on the blonde's shoulders to steady herself._

"_Yeah, me either," were Quinn's last words before Rachel's lips crashed against hers._

_The brunette's mouth was urgent and demanding, still as soft as ever but with a force that spurred Quinn even more. The Cheerio let her hands rest on Rachel's thighs, which were covered by the thin and tight fabric of the yoga pants, the warmth of Rachel's skin almost burning her through the cloth. _

_Rachel was like a little flame, every part her body touched Quinn's was scalding. The brunette parted her lips with a moan as Quinn licked the seam, delighted to let Quinn's tongue in. She pushed herself closer to her, putting her arms around Quinn's neck and breathed hard through her nose as Quinn's cool hands made her way from her thighs to the small of her back, dangerously close to her ass._

_But Quinn wouldn't go there, not yet. Instead, she pushed the sweater up a few inches and tickled the skin on Rachel's back with her fingertips, driving Rachel crazy. She moaned into Quinn's mouth again as the blonde sucked on her tongue. Rachel rested her forehead against Quinn's in an attempt to calm her frantic heartbeat and squirming body._

"_Where have you learned that?" She asked out of breath._

"_What? You thought little miss president of the Celibacy Club wouldn't be experienced, uh?" Quinn said smugly and satisfied with herself and Rachel's state. "You'd be surprised how much you learn when you never let your boyfriends go past first base."_

_Rachel raised her eyebrow in challenge. "Don't look so smug, Fabray."_

_Quinn glanced at Rachel's chest that was still raising and falling hard with every deep breath and licked her lips. She fixed her gaze on Rachel's swollen ones and accepted the challenge. "Make me."_

"Hey," Quinn whispers as she slips into the seat next to Rachel.

"Hi," is Rachel breathy answer. She'd be lying if she said she didn't just lose herself in her own thoughts and felt like she was in her room again, kissing Quinn until her lips felt sore.

Quinn seems to like her flustered face just fine because she smiles knowingly and very slowly, very carefully, moves her hand from her own thigh to the edge of her seat, where her pinkie brushes Rachel's.

Rachel glances down at it and moves her hand another inch, until the same pinkie is curling around Quinn's. She raises her head with a cocked eyebrow and watches Quinn's lips tug up at the corner before she covers her hand completely and squeezes. Rachel turns it up and their fingers entwine immediately, her gaze softening.

"I was just thinking about you," she says conversationally.

"Is that true? About what?" _'Bet it was about that first make out session in her bedroom…' _

"Oh you know, about that time you kidnapped me after Spanish class," she lies as the memories flood her mind.

_The bell had just rang and as all the students left the Spanish classroom, she stayed behind to talk to Mr Schue about their Glee practice that afternoon. She approached him with an idea and the man seemed to brace himself but __was left dumbfounded when she proposed an unconventional duet for Sectionals. Will was confused, seen as she always wanted to have the spotlight. It was so strange that she wanted to give it to other people that he even thought she might be plotting something._

_Nice to know how much he trusts me, Rachel thought bitterly as she left the room and made her way to the cafeteria. _

_But anyways, now that she had proposed it to Mr Schue and she knew she had an ally that would support her this afternoon in Glee, she just needed to comment it to the lucky members who she had chosen to perform the duet._

_But as the universe wanted it, one of them found her first._

"_Wha-" she cried as a pair of strong hands grabbed the back of her argyle vest and pulled her into the janitor's closet. Rachel, thinking the worst, started struggling against her attacker and yelling things like: "Unhand me immediately! My fathers have the ACLU on speed dial!"_

"_Rachel- Rach- ow!" Rachel heard as her elbow collided with something soft._

"_Quinn?" The brunette turned bewildered, her eyes growing wide and worried as she saw Quinn holding her chest. "Oh my God, Quinn, are you okay?"_

_Quinn stared at her, holding her chest and out of nowhere, she started laughing._

"_What's so funny?" Rachel asked confused._

"_I believe you just rounded second base."_

_Rachel spluttered out an apology, her face red from all the air she was _not_ breathing._

"_I didn't know you were into that stuff though," Quinn kept on with her joke. Rachel huffed embarrassed and feeling a little bad for punching Quinn._

"_Well, if you acted like a normal person and asked for me to meet you in here instead of kidnapping me, maybe I wouldn't have to put my self-defence classes to use."_

'Self-defence? That's hot.' _Quinn stepped into Rachel's personal space with her infamous cocked eyebrow and Rachel felt the warmth of her embarrassment melting into another completely different kind of warmth. "I would have asked, but I haven't seen you all day."_

"_I've seen you."_

"_Really? When?"_

"_Oh you know, strutting down the hall, parting the student body like the red sea. Skirt flowing with the wind," Rachel mumbled as Quinn pressed her body to hers and she felt herself trapped against the door._

"_Perv," she whispered barely two inches from Rachel's mouth._

_Rachel snorted. "Like you don't wear it just because you know people's going to perv on you."_

_Quinn just gave a half-shrug, before kissing Rachel, smirk still in place. It irked Rachel even more and she grabbed the lapels of Quinn Cheerio's jacket and bit the blonde's plump lower lip, effectively turning the smirk into a moan. Triumphantly, Rachel pulled back, giggling when a dazed blonde followed her, seeking her mouth._

"_I just talked with Mr Schue."_

"_Really, Rach? Really? We're in a dark closet, kissing and you want to stop and talk about Mr. Schuester?" _'There's something wrong with this picture.'

_Rachel ignored her comment. "I was telling him that for Sectionals it'd be interesting to have something fresh and new aaaand, uhm, Quinn, w-what are you doing?"_

_The cheerleader was leaving little bites and kisses down Rachel's jaw and neck. She nudged the girl's jaw and Rachel gave up without a fight, throwing her head back against the door. _

"_Well if you won't kiss me I'm sure as hell not going to waste this time talking about Sectionals. I have Glee, Cheerio's practice and then my mom wants me to meet her new friends so it's gonna be a long day." And then she proceeded to ravage Rachel's neck._

"_O-oh, okay, but, as much as I l-like what you're doing, I think you should really hear m-mhmm, hear me out, for this matter is of utmost importance to you- oh my god, right there!" _

_Quinn smirked to herself, having found a very sensitive spot on Rachel's neck and planning to leave a nice hickey because even if she still wasn't ready to claim the girl as hers in front of the entire school, at least she was going to let them know she was taken._

"_T-the thing is, uhm, I t-think you should sing a duet with Sam for Sectionals."_

"_What?" And just like that the blonde stopped her ministrations. She snapped her head up and looked at Rachel like she had grown another head. "What are you talking about?"_

_Rachel pouted a little at Quinn for stopping but when she noticed the blonde was serious she dropped it. "I think you and Sam's voice would sound really good together and I was thinking we need to step up our game. It's always been Finn and I doing a duet and it might be getting old- not my part of course, but Finn… once you have seen what he has to offer it doesn't really go further than that. I talked about it with Mr Schue and he thinks it's a phenomenal idea. Of course the solo would still be mine."_

_Quinn had started shaking her head half into the rant and at this point she was even mumbling "no, no, no, no," under her breath._

"_Please Quinn."_

"_No."_

"_Just try it out t__his afternoon at practice. See how you two can sound great together."_

"_You're out of your mind."_

"_I'm not. I know what I'm talking about. You will sound great."_

"_Why would you suggest something like that?" Quinn asked with a groan._

_Rachel put her arms around Quinn's waist and pulled her in. "Because I like your voice and I think it's underappreciated. Because you've never had a duet or a solo and because I trust you can make us win." And as an afterthought she added, "and because I think Sam could be Glee's new male lead. Finn is really getting tiring."_

_Quinn sighed__, dropping her head to Rachel's shoulder, her eyes at eye level with the sensitive spot she had just discovered a minute ago. "You really think I could make us win?"_

"_Absolutely."_

"_But my voice is sharp at occasions."_

"_We can work on that. I can give you private lessons at my house. The basement is soundproofed," something about the way Rachel said the last sentence sounded anything but innocent and it stirred something in Quinn's stomach._

"_I'll need lots of practice," she mumbled smirking._

"You look cute when you space out," Quinn says quietly, breaking her from her reverie, "and I really want to kiss you right now."

They might have been kissing at any waking moment since that day in Rachel's bedroom but that doesn't mean the blunt statement doesn't make Rachel blush any less.

She checks on her teammates with a nervous lip bite. Santana is leaning her head on Brittany's shoulder and they are sharing earphones while the blonde plays with her Tamagotchi. Rachel can hear the virtual duck quacking from time to time. Mercedes and Kurt are still on the back, immersed in their magazines. Mike and Sam are playing with a DS and Puck, who's sitting next to a glazed-eyed Finn, is leaning across the aisle to follow their game. Artie's dad is driving him and Tina so that leaves Mr. Schue who's at the very front, shuffling through sheet music. Suddenly the silence is broken by Sam's cheers and he throws his arms up in victory, earning an impressed nod from Puck and a groan from Mike.

Everyone seems to be minding their own business.

"Someone might see," Rachel says but still leans a tiny bit forward, eyes fixed on her target: Quinn's pink lips that are shinny from the lip-gloss.

"Everyone is minding their own business." Rachel knew that, but there's still a risk. Quinn doesn't seem to mind though, because she ducks her head, her eyes jumping from Rachel's eyes to her lips and leans in excruciatingly slow. "It's been too long," she mumbles.

"We hung out yesterday," Rachel whispers back with a half smile, her breath hitting Quinn's face and she seems oh so smug that Quinn needs the proximity as much and as frequent as she does.

"Too long," Quinn repeats with a head shake and goes in for the kiss.

"Ladies." Sam appears out of nowhere and startles them both, making them jump apart like they've been burned and look guilty until they realize who was the cause of the interruption.

Quinn glares and Rachel plants her cheek on the cold glass of the window to cool her warm skin and make the blush go away. Sam for his part, looks far too amused and not concerned enough by Quinn's murderous look.

"Cockblocked you, didn't I?" He whispers with a grin. Quinn could smack him silly. In fact, Rachel hears her think just that.

"Go away."

"Hey, I just came to see how my favourite secret couple is doing," he is still whispering but both Rachel and Quinn's eyes go a little wide at that statement. They start stuttering out at the same time.

"We're not-"

"Would you shut up?"

"Is not like that."

"I swear to God, Evans…"

"Hey, it's cool. You know that, Quinn." He raises his hands defensively and looks at her pointedly. Quinn sighs and purses her lips as she slumps back in her seat. "Actually I just came to ask you for your phone." Quinn cocks an eyebrow at him. He scratches the back of his neck. "We were playing Mario Karts on Mike's DS and I just beat his record and now he won't let me play anymore." He sends a quick glare at Mike's direction. Rachel briefly thinks it resembles a puppy trying to see from behind its bangs. "And you have Angry Birds on your phone. I just need some distraction or I'd start thinking about our s-song and I'd puke my breakfast or jump out the window. Probably both."

Before Rachel is able to beg Quinn to lend him her phone, for they can't afford losing a member or they'd be disqualified, the blonde grumbles a little and jerks her hips up and out of the seat to fish her phone from her very tight jean's pocket. Rachel's mind flood with images at the sight and her eyes go a little wide, before scolding herself for being such a teenage boy around Quinn.

Quinn hands him her phone with a pointed look that says, _'now get out of my sight and don't you dare cockbloking me again'_. No really, Quinn thinks just that as she gives it.

When Sam leaves Rachel finds the perfect opportunity to ask about that issue. She's not sure how it happened because Quinn hasn't elaborated much but she knows Sam knows about them and they have some sort of deal and Quinn trusts him 100% even if she acts like she doesn't.

"Do you think you could fill me in, in what happened with Sam?"

'_I suppose if Sam knows about us__, it also affects Rachel and that would mean she also has a right to know about him…'_ Quinn looks thoughtful for a moment. _'Ah, you know what? Screw it. He shouldn't have cockblocked me. Twice.'_

"Okay." Quinn's eyes shoot to the roof of the bus as she recounts the events. "It all started after you proposed your brilliant idea of a duet between us."

"_The solo would be mine, of course," Rachel added at the end of her proposition. The first idea was received pretty positively; Puck even patted a dumbfounded Sam in the back and Mercedes and Kurt clapped and squealed a little for their friend Quinn. But someone wasn't so agreeable with this last statement._

"_What?" Mercedes spat, raising her hand in a very 'pause' manner. Everyone in Glee club quieted and waited on the edge of their seats for the epic fight that was surely going to take place. "Oh, hells no. I want that solo too. Who gave you the right to just… assign it to yourself?"_

"_But Mercedes, you have to bear in mind that no one in this room has-"_

'Oh, she better not.'_ Mercedes was fuming._

"_-my years of training, exceptional talent or drive. And we know that's what we're going to need to win. Of course, I'm not saying you're voice is anything less than wonderful, but even you lack my experience when on a stage, for I have been singing since-"_

"_That's it, Diva-wannabe! We're gonna have at it now!" Mercedes said standing up in a rush. Rachel shrunk back a little. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Quinn gripping her chair with white knuckles, two seconds away from bolting up. "Diva-off!"_

_Everyone in the room except Quinn and Mr. Schue (who had been watching the exchange silently, as per usual) exploded in cheers and whistles. Rachel looked at her favourite blonde for help and Quinn decided if Mr. Schue was going to neglect his duties as a teacher, it was time for her to intervene._

"_Wait, wait!" She yelled over the ruckus. The room fell silent again with everyone waiting on pins and needles to see what the blonde had to add to the argument. What no one expected was her to be on Rachel's side. "Mercedes, Rachel is right."_

"_What?" A couple of people, including Mercedes, spat at her._

"_Look, you can all act like Rachel is the bad guy here and be all indignant because she's bluntly saying she's better than you but let's be honest, she is." She looked around, daring someone to contradict her. "She's simply the best one of us. And I'm sorry Mercedes but I'm- we," she pointed at herself and Sam "are not ready to have that much responsibility on our shoulders if we are not sure that the backup is only the very best. You are amazing, you are a powerhouse, we all know that, there's no need for a diva-off. There's no need for you to show us how good you are. We know it. Rachel is the first that knows it." She looked at the girl in question for confirmation and Rachel nodded frantically, her eyes wide and bright. Mercedes, smiled faintly at her. _

"_You can have the solo at Regionals," Rachel blurted suddenly. Mercedes looked at her confused._

'Is she really going to give it up that easy or it is just a trick?' She thought.

"_I promise! I can sign it to you. Do you- do you want me to- let me-" she spun in a circle, looking around for something to write on, "let me get some pen and paper. I'll sign it."_

_Mercedes chuckled at her antics. "No, it's fine. I believe you." She looked at the rest of the members of the club. "You are all witnesses. Rachel promised me the next solo, huh?" She then turned to the shorter girl with a kind smile and an accepting nod. "You better kill this one."_

"_Don't I always?" Rachel replied cheekily._

_Mercedes laughed again as made her way to her seat, where Quinn received her with a grateful nod and a muttered 'thank you'._

_Moments later, Rachel was handing out the sheet music for the group song and duets (to Quinn and Sam) and Mr. Schue was announcing the end of the practice, reminding them that they had Glee again tomorrow and everyday since the day of Sectionals._

_Rachel stood behind, like always, looking over the songs they were going to perform and Quinn pretended to be very interested in the sheet music of her song with Sam. She would have been, a little excited even, when she saw that the song was a beautiful classic such as Dirty Dancing's The Time of My Life. But when the last of the Glee Club members left the room, she dropped the paper and walked over to her girl._

"_Hey," she said as she leaned on the piano next to her. Rachel continued shuffling through the sheets, but a small smile made her way to her face._

"_Thank you," she muttered._

"_What for?"_

_Rachel stopped and bit her lip, then turned to the blonde. "For that before. Standing up for me. No one has ever done that for me. Not even Finn."_

_Quinn shrugged. "You were right and Mercedes was just being a brat. And I'm tired of watching how the Glee Club just throws shit at you and expects you to still be okay with it and then save the day; like last year."_

_Rachel's eyes blurred with unshed tears and she hid her face behind her hair. "I appreciate it a lot more than you think."_

"_Hey," Quinn whispered as she ducked her head to catch Rachel's eyes. When Rachel looked up, she leaned her forehead on hers. "It was time I did something for you." _'I owe you so much,' _she thought but didn't voice it._

_Rachel gave her a watery smile and leaned in. Just as they were about to kiss, someone cleared their throat. They jumped a few feet apart, their heads snapping to the voice with wide, scared eyes. Sam was standing there awkwardly, his bag slung over his shoulder and his hand in his pocket. __He smiled sheepishly._

"_Uh sorry, I can come later if you guys want…"_

"_No!" They both said at the same time._

_Rachel started grabbing her stuff and she sent a last glance in Quinn's direction. _

'Please don't run away from me. Please don't be scared, please God, please. I can't do this without you.'

"_So remember to practice those high notes and the breathing techniques I taught you." Rachel said loudly. She wasn't running away, she was just trying to save their alibi. "I'll call you later," she added quietly, only for Quinn's ears and smiled at her meaningfully._

_Quinn nodded before Rachel spun and with a tight smile at Sam, left the room._

"_So…" Sam breathed._

"_Yeah." Quinn cleared her throat. "Was there something you wanted?"_

"_Oh yeah. Uhm, I was wondering if you wanted to get started with our song today. It has to be at my place though, 'cause dad works 'till late and my mom is going to drive Stacy to her dance class and my brother is alone so I have to look after him," he said in a rush._

_Quinn thought she didn't really have another option. They needed to practice and she knew sooner or later Sam would ask about what he had just witnessed. "Sure."_

_Half an hour later she was sitting on Sam's couch with Sam at her side, plucking aimlessly at the chords of his guitar and his brother, Stevie, curled up on the loveseat, reading a comic book._

_The silence was stifling. Quinn knew he wanted to ask but he feared her reaction. She sucked on her teeth and played with the hem of her Cheerios' skirt. She wondered what Rachel was doing right now._

"_Hey, Stevie," Sam called._

"_Yeah?"_

"_Don't you have homework to do?"_

_The boy looked up at his brother with big pleading eyes. "B-but I just started this number!" He showed them the cover of his X-Men comic._

"_That's a good number…" Sam mumbled thoughtfully. He shook his head. "But you should go do your homework and then you can read it after dinner. Sounds good buddy?"_

_Stevie sighed long and deep, like kids do when they want to imitate adults. "Alright…" He dropped the comic on the table and run up to his room, leaving Quinn and Sam alone in silence once again._

_Sam jerked his head to get his hair out of his eyes and smiled sheepishly._

"_So…" Quinn looked at him questioningly. "Rachel, huh?"_

_Quinn shook her head dumbfounded. She never imagined he'd be so direct about it. But what surprised her most wasn't the bluntness of the question; it was the complete casualness of the situation. Sam almost looked like he didn't really care that much, like he might have known all along. "…No?" She tried._

"_It's cool, you know. I should have guessed when you said you liked someone but you had been a bitch to them. I hear people talking. I know you used to torture her." Quinn looked away ashamed. "At first I was confused; why would Quinn torture a girl like Rachel? She's sweet. She doesn't really represent a threat to her status. She's nice to everyone."_

"_I know, I know. I was just so-"_

"_But then I realized those rumours weren't true anymore. I mean, yeah, maybe you were a bitch before I transferred but I haven't really known that Quinn. I've known the one that waits at Rachel's locker to walk her to class together and the one that defends her in Glee Club. And then, the one that almost kisses her in the choir room after practice." Sam smiled goofily and Quinn turned a nice shade of red. "I might be dyslexic but even I can play 'join the dots'."_

"_I- I don't know what you want me to say." Her voice shook a little._

"_Are you guys like… together?"_

"_No. No." She shook her head then stopped. "Maybe. No. I don't know."_

"_You like her?"_

_Quinn looked at him irritated. _

"_Hey, I saw you almost kissing her. I know you like her, I'm just asking because it's polite or… whatever."_

"_Fine. Yes." Quinn rolled her eyes and softened a little. "Yeah, I like her."_

"_And she likes you?"_

_Quinn gave a half shrug and bit back a smile. "I think so."_

"_But you're not together?"_

"_Not yet," Quinn said before she even realized what she was saying. Sam didn't seem to give it too much __thought._

"_Mhmm…" he mumbled as he started strumming his guitar again. When Quinn thought he was going to drop it, he spoke again. "I'm bisexual."_

_Quinn chocked on her own spit. "What?"_

_Sam shrugged, a little insecure this time. "Well, I guessed since I know your secret it is only fair that you know mine. This way you know I'm going to keep yours and I know you're going to keep mine."_

"_But… why did you tell me?"_

"_Dunno. No one really knows here. Feels good to talk about it with someone." He looked up at her from under his bangs. "You're okay with that, right?"_

_Quinn's eyes widened and she snorted. "Sam, I just told you I'm planning on dating Rachel Berry. I think I might be more than okay with that."_

_He smiled that adorable smile that was exactly like his brother's and made him look even younger. "Cool."_

"_Yeah." It actually felt good to talk about it with someone, Quinn thought. It was… liberating. Brittany and Santana also knew but she hasn't really talked with them about it, since they were BrittanyandSantana exclusively as of lately. In fact she didn't see herself voicing her doubts about Rachel to them; the image of a teasing Latina making fun of her and a sweet but not very helpful blonde conjured up in her mind. Suddenly the idea that Sam knew about them didn't sound so bad. It actually excited her a little. "So… is there any guy you like?"_

"That's mostly how it went," Quinn finishes the story that Rachel has been so attentively listening too, adding her own memories into it.

"So?" The brunette asks expectantly.

"So…?"

Rachel makes a 'duh' face. "So is there? Any guy that has called Sam's attention?"

Quinn can't believe this girl. "Oh my God, you are such a gossip," she laughs.

"I am not! I'm just curious. I won't tell anyone." Rachel laces her arm around Quinn's and presses into her, practically sitting on her lap. "Tell me. Tell me, tell me, tell me."

Quinn looks at the shiny, mischievous brown eyes and knows she can't say no to this girl. She sighs. "Fine. But you better not tease him about it." Rachel crosses her fingers over her heart. "He thinks Kurt's cute."

"Well, duh. Kurt's really pretty."

"And… he thinks…" Quinn says stretching it out, "that Puck is hot."

Rachel gasps, her eyes widening. Her eyes glace over for a moment and Quinn looks at her curiously.

"What? What? What are you thinking?" Quinn nudges her when she doesn't reply.

"That would be so hot," she finally mumbles.

…

Rachel can tell they are nearing their destination when Quinn squeezes her hand before changing seats to sit next to Sam. Crumpled sheet music in hand, she can see them going over the lyrics, choreography steps and just mentally preparing themselves for it.

When they arrive, Mr. Schue tells them to find a bathroom to get changed while he announces their arrival. Minutes later, New Directions, clad in white and gray dresses and black and red pants and shirt, wait at their Green Room for their turn.

They can hear the next contestants being announced through the speaker. They sound good, but not as good as them.

"We are better than these. We got this," Santana says breaking the charged silence. It's the second time they're in this position and even if they won the first time, the nerves are still there.

"Santana's right, we got this," Finn adds, always positive. The choir on stage changes songs; the first notes of a Lady Gaga's song start to sound. "E-even if they have Gaga."

Beautifully merged voices flow through the speaker and the members of New Directions listen with rapt attention. Okay, they might sound _really_ good.

"We're better, right? I mean we got- we got Rachel," Artie stutters. "And Time of My Life. That's a classic. Who doesn't love a classic?"

"We should've gone with Gaga…" Tina mumbles.

"Okay, enough." Mr. Schue jumps on his feet and shuts the speaker off. "Stop worrying so much about the others, guys. You know how good you are. You have to trust yourselves. Use this time to bath into that confidence. I want to see you _shine_ like only you can when you get out there, okay?" There are some nods. "_Okay_?"

"Okay," they chorus.

"Alright, I'm gonna go find my seat. You are up after the break. I'll see you then." He looks at his kids proudly. "You'll be great. Break a leg guys."

The mood is clearly lighter when Mr. Schue leaves. Rachel watches Britt and Mike going over the choreography for Finn, Puck and Tina. Mercedes and Artie are warming up their voices and Kurt and Santana are peeking into the hallway to see if they can catch a glimpse of the last performers. She glances to the furthest corner to see Quinn slumped down in her chair with Sam hovering over her with a worried face.

Rachel frowns and approaches them.

"Hey, is everything fine?" She asks resting her hand on Sam's shoulder.

'_Oh thank God, Rachel,'_ Sam thinks relieved. "You talk to her. She's not listening to me."

"About what?"

'_She doesn'__t want to perform.'_ "Just talk to her," the boy says instead.

"Quinn?" Rachel crouches in front of the blonde when she refuses to look up at her. "Quinn?"

"I- I can't." Quinn gulps loudly. She shakes her head. "I can't go out there. Nope. I'm not ready. I won't do it."

"Quinn, what are you talking about? Of course you are ready, you've been practicing so hard; you and Sam." Rachel looks up at Sam who shrugs defeated. "I get you are nervous but I _know_ you'll be amazing. You have nothing to be afraid of."

"Rachel," Quinn says through clenched teeth, "last time I performed on a stage my water broke. Don't you see? I can't go out there. I'll screw it up."

"That's ridiculous! Quinn, one bad experience doesn't mean anything!"

'_I'll mess up the words, I'll trip, I'll disappoint her. I'll disappoint everyone.'_The blonde releases a shaky breath. "I'm not you, Rachel, I don't light up the stage. I- I- I-"

"Come with me."

Rachel grabs Quinn's hand and pulls her out of the room and to an empty one. No one pays attention, apart from Sam who sends a quick prayer to whoever is listening that Rachel will be able to convince Quinn. She's their only hope right now.

Once in the room, Rachel locks the door and spins on her heels before lurching forward and crashing her lips against Quinn's. She kisses the air out of her; kisses her until her lungs burn and her head is fuzzy and foggy and she feels it from her lips to the tip of her toes. She kisses her worries away, her hands cupping her neck, eyes shut tight and her lips pressed so hard against Quinn's, that she can feel her teeth behind them. Quinn's body relaxes and her arms slip almost unconsciously around Rachel's slim waist.

The kiss loses force slowly, until Rachel is merely brushing her lips against Quinn's. Her eyes are open, watching Quinn's conflicted expression. Without moving an inch, she speaks.

"You're going out there and you're blowing them away because I know you can and because I trust you, okay?"

Quinn's eyes flutter open and Rachel has never seen them so close and so vulnerable. She can even see Quinn's eye freckle. They look golden. Like honey.

"I'm ready."

…

Obviously, Quinn doesn't trip or forget the lyrics or disappoint anyone. She and Sam are bright and flawless and fun and the crowd seems to love them. Their chemistry and trust in one another is palpable and it makes things even easier. Rachel watches them from her spot- swinging on the background, who would have thought?- and beams proudly.

That's my girl, she thinks.

Her solo and the group song go by in a blur. She nails it, of course, hitting all the right notes at the right time and leaving the public wanting more of her. But that is just a side effect of her voice, Rachel knows it. They rush off the stage, jumping up and down, squealing, smiles so big that hurt. They're going to win; there's no doubt now.

"That. Was. Amazing," Tina says punctuating each word as she jumps down the stairs at the backstage, two steps at a time. "Amazing."

"I know, right? We _so_ got this," Brittany agrees. She pulls Santana's hand and twirls her around, the adrenaline from the performance still buzzing in her body. Santana laughs and lets her twirl her around, finally falling back into her arms. The blonde wraps her arms around her waist, front to back and rests her head on the Latina's shoulder. They look ecstatic.

"Dude, that was awesome. Didn't know you could hit those notes," Puck says impressed as he puts her arm over Sam's shoulder and squeezes. Rachel holds back an embarrassing giggle when she sees the blond blush.

"Thanks man."

"Rach! I did it!" Quinn cries and throws herself into Rachel's arms. No one even bats an eye at them, each of them immersed in their own celebratory haze.

Rachel pulls her tighter, inhaling the still lingering sweet scent of Quinn's shampoo and just Quinn herself.

"You did, baby. You did." Both Quinn and Rachel fail to notice the term of endearment that escapes Rachel's mouth but it's still there and it still warms their hearts.

Detaching herself from the girl, Rachel gently cups her cheeks. "See? I told you, you'd be amazing." Quinn grabs her hands with her still shaking ones and brings her to her chest, nodding gratefully. Rachel smiles cheekily. "So… how was I?"

Quinn laughs. "As if I need to tell you." Still Rachel looks expectantly. "You were flawless, like always. I'm actually jealous. You got the crowd in the bag as soon as you opened your mouth."

The brunette shrugs and flips her hair over her shoulder flippantly making Quinn laugh again. Moments later, Mr. Schue comes into the room, shiny eyed and looking like a proud father, giving out hugs to anyone at an arms-reach.

When they are called back on stage to hear the results, Quinn grabs Rachel's hand for support. Sam stands behind them, head bent and his hands on their shoulders. Puck is beside him, looking surprisingly serious. Rachel looks around at her friends while they wait for their name to be called and she realizes.

She knows- they all know- they are going to win. They were simply the best tonight. But looking at their tightly shut eyes and vice grips on each others hands she realizes how much this means for all. Even if this is Sectionals and it's only the first step, they need this. They need to keep fighting for Regionals and then New York. They need to have a second chance after last year. They just need each other.

And when the winner is announced and their name is called, it all seems possible again.

…

Just as Rachel expected, there's a party in the bus during the drive back to Lima. The excitement of their win is still there, floating in the air, and she can see it in her peer's giddy smiles and animated conversations. They can barely sit still; everyone is congregating at the back around Puck who's holding the trophy. But after a day like this, they're all drained, so as soon as they hit the road, the Glee Club members start going back to their seats to watch the landscape pass by or even take a well deserved nap.

Rachel sighs in relieve when the excitement dies down, leaving an aura of utter contentment. They are enjoying the metaphorical cloud nine.

Quinn, who was one of the firsts to go back to her seat, rests her head on Rachel's shoulder as soon as the girl plops down next to her and snuggles a little into her side, leaving Rachel staring at the mess of golden locks with a goofy smile. She pops in her earphones and rests her head atop of Quinn's. The faint lavender scent and the slow beat of the songs on her playlist soon lull her to sleep.

She's awakened forty minutes later by the honk of a distant truck. She blinks blearily and yawns and then looks down at the sleeping beauty who's tucked into her neck. She brushes some wild locks back and watches Quinn's button nose scrunch up when some of the hairs tickle her. Rachel holds in a giggle.

The sign that welcomes them to Lima, Ohio is already in sight. Rachel hears some movement behind them and suddenly a tan hand comes from out of nowhere and smacks Quinn in the head, waking her up with a start.

"Wha'?" Quinn mumbles straightening her posture and trying to blink away the sleep. Rachel almost drools at the adorable sight.

"Hey, it's okay. Santana was just being a jerk," she explains to the disgruntled girl. The contained laugh of the Latina who's sitting with Brittany behind them stop.

'_I should'__ve smacked you too, Smurfette,' _Santana thinks loud and clear for Rachel to hear.

"'m just so tired," the blonde yawns. Rachel can only imagine how exhausted the girl must feel after today's roller-coaster of emotions. "We there yet?"

"Almost." Rachel smiles softly before giving into the urge to kiss Quinn's cheek, which is warm and soft and wrinkled after being resting against Rachel's shoulder the whole drive. Her lips stay there for a few seconds, getting a small smile and a sigh out of Quinn.

'_Disgusting,'_ Santana thinks and Rachel can hear her faking gagging noises.

When they reach the school grounds, Puck announces that he's having a party the next day at his place. The whole Glee Club is invited of course, because they are going to celebrate the first win of the year- and not the last- properly.

Once out of the bus, Mr. Schue says he will take care of the trophy and put it in a place they can all admire it. They say their goodbyes, promising to attend to tomorrow's party and Rachel and Quinn walk together to where their parents are going to pick them up.

"Are you going to Puck's party?" Quinn asks quietly.

"Are you?"

Quinn's mom's car is turning the corner and she waves, gesturing for her to wait. She turns to Rachel and shrugs. "I don't know. I don't really feel like partying_." 'I'd prefer to spend the weekend with her.'_

"Me either, honestly," Rachel says realizing she likes Quinn's plan better. "Oh, I know! Do you want to hang out tomorrow? My dads are going to be out of town for the weekend," Rachel hurries to continue talking before the blonde can read more into the simple statement. "We could watch a movie, spend the- the day together and then see if we want to show up at the party."

Quinn nods, "That sounds good. At what time do you want me?"

"Well… you can come as soon as you're done with your jog." Rachel has been joining Quinn in her morning jogs a couple more times, but she's mostly still looking for a good replacement of her elliptical. It's not like she doesn't like running with Quinn through the park, is that there are too many distractions for them both. Namely, each other.

Quinn beams at her. There's a honk and Rachel sees her Dad's car in the opposite direction. They both start walking away, eyes still locked on each other.

"I'll brink breakfast," Quinn calls.

"Deal."

…

The next morning, Rachel's neighbour, Mrs. Matthews, stops watering her geraniums to watch curiously at the young blonde in jeans and a pink sweatshirt parking in front of the Berry's and walking up the path to the house with a paper bag and two cups of coffee. The girl looks like a modern version of Grace Kelly and her smile threatens to split her face in half.

The old woman cocks her eyebrow amused when this stunning young lady stops at the Berry's door and starts fumbling, clearly not daring to knock. Mrs. Matthews shakes her head and sighs, resuming her daily gardening routine.

Kids these days. So brazen for some things and so shy for others.

…

Quinn stands with her gaze fixed on the wood of Rachel's front door and takes a breath. Then another. She balances the bag and the coffees in her right hand to knock but then decides her left hand is not that good at knocking. When she finally frees her good hand and raises it, she stops to ponder if maybe it would be best to ring the bell. Or maybe she should call Rachel and make sure she's awake first; she did came a little early after all.

This is hard.

"Quinn Fabray." Rachel's Daddy, Leroy, opens the door and greets her with an amused smirk. Her face burns at the thought that he had been watching her all along.

"Good morning, sir, " she says firmly and then frowns, "I thought Rachel said you were out for the weekend."

"Mhm," he nods, "we were just leaving. Actually… Hiram, honey! You have five minutes or I'm leaving without you!" He calls into the house and then turns to her with a confident smile. "He's just like Rachel, you know. Always thinks he's going to forget something and starts freaking out at the last minute."

Quinn chuckles at the mental image. "Where are you going?"

"Dayton. My high-school friend lives there and she just had a baby. We're going to visit and meet the new member of the family. I've seen pictures, he's adorable."

Quinn gulps hard at the mention of a baby, but manages to hide her apprehension. "That's great." Hiram finally appears with a bag slung across his chest a carry on in his hand. He notices her and sends her an unsure look.

"Hi sir, I'm Quinn," she says extending her free hand, happy with her decision of carrying the stuff with the left one because awkward handshakes are the worst introductions ever. Hiram still stares at her like she's not trustworthy and she shifts nervously. "I brought breakfast for Rachel," she shows him the bag and the coffees.

"She's vegan," he snaps eyeing the bag of what he guesses are donuts and the coffee that surely contains milk in his mind.

"Soy latte and a hazelnut vegan cookie."

Hiram raises his eyebrows impressed, meanwhile Leroy watches the stare match awkwardly. "Okay…" he mumbles, "time to go. Quinn, you and Rachel have fun and keep an eye on her, alright?"

"Sure, sir. Drive safe and have fun in Dayton."

Leroy pulls Hiram to the car, sending Quinn an apologetic smile back. She finally breathes out a long sigh and makes her way to Rachel's bedroom. She knocks on the door and waits. When there's no answer she pushes the door ajar and peeks inside. Rachel is on the floor doing sit ups with her earphones on.

Quinn lets her hazel eyes roam freely over Rachel's taut body. _'And I'm gonna have this girl all by myself this weekend. How did I get so lucky?'_

Rachel suddenly stops and jumps into a sitting position, her head snapping to the girl standing ogling her from the door.

"Quinn! Good moring! Is it nine already?" Rachel stands in a rush and checks her phone. Surely she didn't notice the time what with the new exercising regime she's trying and all. If it wasn't for Quinn's thought that resounded loud and clear through her head and over the music from her i-pod, she wouldn't have noticed the blonde had arrived.

"Yeah, I came a little early," Quinn stammers, forcing her eyes to stay above Rachel's neck. "I just met your dads, by the way."

"Oh my God, you did?" Rachel's eyes widen comically. "Did Hiram say something mean? Oh he's in so much trouble if he did."

Quinn laughs. "No, they were fine."

"Oh, okay." Rachel finally looks down at herself, realizing she's wearing the tiniest shorts and sports bra she owns and her skin is wet from the sweat. "Uh, I'm gross. I'm going to go shower real quick. You can wait in kitchen; I'll be downstairs in a minute."

Quinn does just that. She sits on a stool and sips on her coffee, her fingers tapping on the marble table and her ears catching the muffled song Rachel is belting out in her shower over the sound of splashing water.

Rachel in the shower. Uh oh.

She quickly forces her mind to stop going in that direction.

Minutes later a fresh and clean Rachel runs down the stairs. She takes her seat in front of Quinn and the blonde passes her her coffee and her cookie.

"It's all vegan," she explains when she sees Rachel eyeing the coffee. The shorter girl flashes her a grin. Rachel reaches over the table and pecks her on the lips, murmuring a quick "thank you," before digging into her food.

When they finish their breakfast, they move to the living room to watch some TV. At this time in the day it's all mostly talk shows and cartoons, so Rachel switches to the cutest looking ones and diverts her attention to the blonde.

There's a question in Rachel's eyes and it's the same Quinn had that day in her bedroom. The blonde catches on it quickly and smiles sheepishly before leaning in and kissing her. And so they kiss and kiss and kiss.

They stop eventually, of course. Rachel suggests that they play Scrabble. She finds a tough opponent in Quinn because, contrary to popular belief, Quinn is one of the smartest girls in school. But Rachel's vast vocabulary ends up winning. Rachel claims that Quinn must be her perfect adversary in Scrabble, that even her dads make it too easy for her to win. Quinn almost bursts with pride.

And then they kiss again.

They have lunch, watch a movie, talk to Brittany and Santana on Facebook and listen to music. They also kiss on the couch, on the bed and on the kitchen counter. They just can't seem to be able to take their hands off of each other.

It's all still pretty tame. They've gone under the shirt but never got close enough to second base. They're only feather-like touches, brushing skin, tickling sides, only fuelling the coiling desire inside them. But it's much too soon for that, so they keep kissing. Innocent and not so innocent kisses, interrupted by giggles and breathy sighs and sometimes a good placed hickey in that spot that turns Rachel into a poodle of goo.

They lay on Rachel's bed, this time talking. They are learning about each other, sharing secrets and embarrassing stories and dreams. Rachel just told Quinn that she keeps a neatly folded paper with her Tony Award acceptance speech on her dresser along with her favourite brush that she uses as a microphone when she practices in front of the mirror.

"Oh my God," Quinn doubles over laughing, "you are such a diva." Rachel pouts, not happy with how her routine is amusing Quinn. The cheerleader sees it and she stops laughing immediately but the smile still remains. "But you are _my _diva."

A shy smile tugs on Rachel's lips. "Am I?"

"Yeah," Quinn frowns, "unless that was too soon. In which case, I'm sorry. I just thought that after these past weeks, maybe-"

"No, no! I like it. I like the idea of me being yours." This earns Rachel a dazzling smile from the blonde. "Just like I like the idea of you being mine."

"Yeah?"

Rachel nods.

"Wait, did we just…" Quinn gestures between the two of them, "you know, make it official?"

Rachel taps her chin with her finger. "I think we did."

"Well, this deserves a celebration," Quinn purrs inching closer with a sly smirk.

"I concur."

And Rachel and Quinn becoming RachelandQuinn happens as easy as that.

When the night falls, they grab a quick dinner and make their way to Puck's party. At first they thought of not attending, but after a long Facebook conversation consisted of Brittany's begging and Santana's pressuring, they finally gave in and decided to stop by just for an hour or so.

They stay for two. When Santana, who ended up promising she'd be the designated driver for them four, leaves them in Rachel's driveway, they stumble out of the car giggling. The couple- maybe three?- wine coolers they've had are kicking full swing right now and the pair manages to drunkenly open Rachel's front door and climb the stairs.

They collapse into the bed dissolving into a fit of giggles. Quinn, who's a little more sober than the brunette, tries to compose herself for a moment.

"We should ch-change. I don't wanna fall sleep with my jeans on."

Rachel looks over at the mentioned garment with half-lidded eyes and nods once. She sits up and pulls her sweater over her head, soon followed by her shirt. She goes for the skirt but Quinn stops her.

"Woah, woah. I think you should- maybe- just- if you keep taking clothes off I might do something."

Rachel looks down at herself. She's wearing her pale blue lace bra and her skirt. The concept of what Quinn is implying makes its way through her foggy mind. "Oooh…"

"Yeah…"

"I'm gonna- I'm gonna change in the bathroom then." She grabs a pair of shorts and a t-shirt on the way and another pair for Quinn before throwing them in the blonde's general direction and disappearing into the bathroom.

Quinn blows out a long breath, trying to cool down her body and then quickly changes into the borrowed pajamas. When Rachel appears into the room, she's looking refreshed and her hair is up in a ponytail. She turns off the light and crawls into the bed next to the blonde.

Quinn immediately turns on her side and pulls Rachel into her. There's not a lot of resistance on Rachel's part when she finds Quinn's lips and tongue massaging hers.

It has been growing all day, this warmth at the pit of her stomach. But she knows is way too soon and this is definitely not the moment because both of them are still a little intoxicated and they just made it official today. However, when Quinn's cool hand which is resting on her stomach under her shirt, starts making its way up, Rachel doesn't stop it. Instead she encourages it with a little breathy whimper.

Quinn's hand reaches her breast and at first it just lays there, like Quinn is waiting for her reaction, for her to flinch away and slap her or let her know that is okay. The blonde even slows her kissing to a gentle push and pull of lips and mumbles between her lips, "is this okay?"

Rachel nods, arching her back ever so slightly so Quinn would take the hint and do something, anything with that hand.

The blonde starts a gentle massage, followed by her thumb brushing over Rachel's hard nub. Rachel's breath grows heavier and she moves even closer to Quinn, her legs tangling with the blonde's.

Quinn moans deep in her throat at the feel of Rachel's body pressing into her from every side. They fit, but not in that clichéd pieces-of-puzzles thing, it's more like they melt into each other. Like their bodies is made of the same matter that adjusts itself to the other and it is never uncomfortable. Quinn squeezes Rachel's breast and breathes deep through her nose before detaching herself from her girl.

Rachel understands that they need to stop or this is going to take a very different path soon. Quinn slips her hand out and rests it over Rachel's shirt on her stomach, smoothing down the fabric and giving them some time to calm their ragging hormones.

"We should sleep," Rachel says softly.

"Mkay."

They don't move an inch apart, too comfortable in their warm cocoon to even think about moving. And as the arousal gives way to the tiredness and sleepiness caused by the alcohol, the two girls fall sleep into each others arms.

…

Of course when Rachel's alarm clock starts beeping the next morning, Quinn who's closer to it, just grunts and slams her hand on it, effectively shutting it up for the rest of the day and snuggles into the delicious warmth the body next to hers is providing.

Rachel just sighs and mumbles something incoherent in her sleep before they both fall into a deep slumber again.

Hours later Rachel is awakened by the sound of a car door closing and blinks her eyes slowly, trying to locate herself into a concrete time and space. She looks at the clock and realizes she and Quinn had slept in most of the day. She then realizes the car door was probably her dads arriving home.

With a dull thumping in her head that she mentally notes to take care later, she gently shakes the blonde awake.

"Quinn." The front door opens. "Quinn, wake up."

"Mhmm, Rach…" Quinn mumbles, "you're my girlfriend now…"

Rachel indulges a second to giggle at that. "Yes, indeed I am. However that has nothing to with the fact that you must wake up immediately if you don't want to explain my dads why you're sleeping in my bed."

"Wha…" Quinn blinks her eyes open and the sound of the door closing and the Berry men carrying their stuff into the house reaches the room. "Oh fuck. Oh shit."

"Quinn language," Rachel chastises as Quinn jumps from the bed and holds her head for a minute before turning to change and get out of there before Hiram sees her. _'If he sees me I'm dead. I'm dead. He will kill me with his laser glare.'_

Rachel rolls her eyes at her girlfriend's antics. And she's supposed to be the diva here.

Quinn strips in front of her, but so fast that Rachel barely has a nano-second to enjoy her body in underwear. She slips the jeans and sweater she wore yesterday and smoothes her hair in front of the mirror and rubs the sleep off of her face. Rachel sits cross-legged on her bed watching Quinn look for her purse, spinning around like a dog chasing its tale in the middle of her room, when her Daddy opens the door and her girlfriend freezes.

"Hi, Daddy."

Leroy eyes Quinn mildly surprised. _'I knew that she was going to call her. Huge possibility of her spending the night but I thought they'd be a little more subtle and she would have left already.'_

"Quinn is just leaving, Daddy." Rachel explains. "She just came by to spend the day with me."

"Right," Leroy says, "and she's wearing the same clothes as yesterday because?"

"Damn gay men and their observant skills," Rachel curses under her breath. "Okay, she stayed the night, but we just slept. In the same bed. But _slept_."

"Rachel!" Quinn hisses. _'Was that last remark really necessary? Oh God this is mortifying.'_

"Oh well, that's good to know," Leroy says awkwardly. "And it's nice to see you again, Quinn, but you might want to leave before my husband sees you. He has nothing against you, trust me. We've talked. But he's just as observant as I am, if only not as understanding."

"Got it," Quinn nods.

"Oh and don't use the stairs. He's in the kitchen."

"Then how-"

"You figure it out," and with that he winks and leaves.

"I hate your Dad."

"He likes you, tough," Rachel says with a pout. Quinn sighs.

"I'm kidding. I just don't know how am I supposed to leave without…" Quinn's eyes stop on the window. "Oh."

Rachel catches it. "You are crazy."

"It's the first floor and there's a tree right there."

Rachel stands and makes her way next to the blonde at the window. "Still crazy."

"Maybe, but I'm _your_ crazy," Quinn says cheekily. Rachel shakes her head with a smile and Quinn opens the window and throws a leg over the ledge. She turns to give her girl a goodbye kiss and Rachel watches her with her lip between her teeth as she makes her way down the tree. When the athletic cheerleader has proved that is just that easy to climb down a tree and is standing safely on the ground, she waves back at Rachel and runs to her car. Rachel watches her until the vehicle disappears around the corner.

She sighs against the cold glass of the window. Suddenly her Dad bursts into the room, looking suspicious.

"Was that Quinn's car that just left out driveway?"

Rachel opens her mouth and then closes it again. She guesses it's time to update her Dad on the last events.

"Dad, you might want to sit down for this."


End file.
